


Fast Talk and the Slow Burn

by 51PegasiB



Series: Fast Talk Verse [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Multi, Polyamory, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:53:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 64,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/51PegasiB/pseuds/51PegasiB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce needs Tony and Pepper, but will he let himself have what he needs?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Schemes and Convincing Arguments

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much to Giglet and Brancher (who is not on AO3) for invaluable beta help, advice, grammar wrangling and general encouragement.

It wasn't until Tony bought the second motorcycle for Bruce that Pepper clued in to what was going on.

Buying things didn't mean much to Tony. He frequently bought things and practically threw them at people. He was actually as casually generous as he was selfish, which is to say: extremely.

It was the way she had seen him woo starlets and supermodels back in the old days - carelessly giving them things that were expensive and flashy. He had also wooed staff the same way, back before he ever donned his own experimental suit and still took anything like a personal interest in Stark industries. He found people he wanted, in any sphere, and went after them, wining and dining them, lavishing them with gifts, promises and his unique, abrasive, and careless assumption that he WOULD get what he wanted in the end.

He hadn't really had to do that with her. She was no-nonsense, and when he started in, she had just named her price - five times what she had been making at her last job. He didn't even blink, but agreed immediately. And then he had instantly begun to take her for granted, as he did with all the successfully wooed in his sphere.

That was back before the suit, too. She didn't love the suit, but she couldn't hate it. It had brought them together on a different level.

Anyhow, when he'd begun buying Dr. Banner things, Pepper had assumed it was one kind of wooing. The smartphone, the new tricked-out computer, the lab, the tablet, the trip to CERN...all of these things had the feel of him trying to win a scientist to work beside. Even the riding leathers and the first motorcycle -- a Ducati racing bike with a custom paint-job in a sparkly green that had made it look like some kind of hulk-themed amusement park ride -- had not been off the charts.

It was unusual for him to take such a personal interest, but this was an unusual case. When Tony had first brought the doctor back to Stark tower, the two had stayed up for 48 hours talking and poking at robots and computer data models. It was like an incredibly nerdy slumber party, with Tony playing the enthusiastic kid showing off his hotwheels to his new best friend.

Pepper had noticed, though, that the Ducati never got used. Bruce did wear the leathers Tony had gotten for him, but he still putted around on the ancient beaten-up bike that had gotten him to the Avengers' showdown with Loki and his alien army.

Thinking this was a little curious, Pepper mentioned it to Tony, and two days later two things happened - first, the old bike had been shined stem-to-stern (and been given a thorough tuneup in the process, Pepper suspected) second, between it and the shiny green Ducati appeared a vintage cruiser, perfectly restored, painted a dark gray-blue and bearing the Triumph logo.

As far as she knew, the only person he'd ever liked well enough to admit when he'd been wrong about and try to make amends with had been her. That was when she was sure there was more than battle kinship and science going on, at least in Tony's head.

"So, what do you see in Dr. Banner?" she asked him one day, over breakfast. He had always been a weaselly fast-talker, and she found it easiest to get the truth out of him with abrupt directness before his blood's concentration of caffeine reached the levels he usually achieved on lab days.

Not this time. Tony gave her a sideways glance. "He's a good guy. You should get to know him."

"He doesn't seem that easy to get to know," she responded, looking right at his averted eyes, "at least, not easy for me." For the moment, she let go of prying Tony's crush out of him. She knew. He knew that she knew. Getting him to admit it aloud would not make it truer or different in any way.

"Bruce does like to keep people at arm's length. Or further. Maybe beyond the Hulk's arm's length."

"He seems to have that under control, though."

"I'm not sure he's convinced of that," Tony said, with a half-chuckle.

"It makes me nervous to have you spend so much time around him," she said.

"It makes him nervous too, I assure you. But he's...brilliant. And it does him no good to be treated like a berserker who might snap at any moment and kill everyone."

"But he is a berserker that might snap at any moment and kill everyone," she said. "He almost killed Natasha."

"And he saved my life," he responded, simply.

Pepper tightened her lips and nodded. He had. Whatever else went on, she owed the Hulk a debt, there. Like the one she owed to the suit. She wasn't sure she liked Banner, but she couldn't hate him.

"Well," she said. "Bring him to dinner, sometime, the next time you men pry yourselves out of the lab."

His sidewise glance became more direct. She glimpsed a flicker of something around his eyes...amusement? Hope?

The next day, when she rode the elevator up after a long day of putting out fires all over Stark Industries (figurative fires, today, fortunately), she was greeted by the sight of a tight-shouldered Bruce Banner, slumped in one of the hyper-modern chairs in the lounge. Tony was at the bar, making himself a drink. He was talking animatedly, but stopped mid-sentence when he saw her step out of the elevator. At this, Dr. Banner looked behind him and then quickly stood up and reached out a hand and shook hers.

"Hello, Ms. Potts," he said. "How are you?"

"You're a guest in my home, Dr. Banner. Please call me Pepper."

She looked him up and down. His body language was all unassuming quiet touched with the tightness of nervousness. He was wearing the grey slacks and yellow shirt Tony had handed down to him. This meeting was an effort for him; one he was throwing energy at.

"I will if you call me Bruce."

This formal informalizing out of the way, Pepper strode over to Tony and got an intense and boozy, but brief kiss.

"What's for dinner?" she said.

"The cook left something in the oven," he replied, "I haven't even looked to see what it is."

"No doubt burnt to a crisp. Again," she said, with a calm smile.

"No! I put Bruce in charge of remembering. He's much more responsible than I am. Aren't you Bruce?"

The quieter man ran a hand through his unruly hair and laughed self-deprecatingly. "I don't know about that, but I did set a timer," just as he held up his smart phone it started repeatedly shouting "SMASH! SMASH! SMASH!" in what sounded suspiciously like Tony's voice.

Bruce's brow wrinkled in annoyance as he flicked it off. Tony snickered and grinned as he loped out of the room to retrieve the food.

Slumping back into his seat, again, Bruce said, quietly, "I've asked him to stop messing with my phone."

Pepper suddenly felt a wave of empathy for the harried scientist.

"I know what you mean. You should hear the things he changes my ringtone to. And then he calls me in the middle of meetings," she grinned at him, and then held out a hand till he took it and stood up by her.

"Come ON, you two," Tony called from the other room, "It's not even burned or anything."

He practically danced back into his room, the reactor glowing through his t-shirt, lofting his oven-mitt-covered hands into the air as if he'd won a trophy and then dancing back to the dining room.

"Let's go, before he runs into something and knocks himself out," she said, grinning.

"Your boyfriend is exhausting, Pepper," said Bruce, softly. She looked back at him, as she dragged him forward.

"Amongst other things," she said.

He looked at her with a sudden intensity and nodded in agreement. That was the moment when Pepper began to see him as a potential ally in her constant sparring with Tony, and maybe in the fight to keep him healthy and alive, as well.

Throughout dinner, Tony was relatively quiet. He interrupted his constant stream of patter to really listen to each of them, and to get them talking with each other. At least, she suspected that's why Tony, of all people, kept steering the conversation away from science and tech and onto topics like art and literature and history. He also guided her away from pop culture when she took a conversational stab in that direction. Apparently, being on the run hadn't allowed Bruce to keep up with any of the celebrity gossip.

Pepper watched as Bruce unclenched slowly over the course of the evening. When he could let go of himself a little, he was an excellent conversationalist. Just as enthusiastic in his own way as Tony was in his. Clearly just as intelligent (if not more so) than her boyfriend, but with a quiet intensity that was like a constant warm thrumming in the room - more Apollonian, behind his cuddly, rumpled exterior, where Tony was thoroughly Dionysian - both in private and on the face he presented to the world.

When Tony couldn't restrain himself any more, and barreled full-on into the conversation, she saw their dynamic more thoroughly. Bruce could leap through all the logical hoops Tony could erect. They spoke the same language in a way she and Tony never had. It jarred her and she quietly excused herself to go to the bathroom and pull herself together. Here was someone who was her billionaire genius playboy lover's intellectual and educational equal with a personality so controlled as to complement Tony's fire perfectly. No wonder Tony wanted him.

When she got back to the table, Bruce wasn't there.

"Did he take off?" she asked Tony, quietly.

"No...he insisted on doing the dishes," he replied.

"Did you tell him we have machines and people for that?" she asked.

"Oh, I tried. He's very determined, and scrupulously polite. I mean. I'm not sure why he would bother. He's met me and everything," he said, and wandered off to refill his drink.

For Pepper's part, she wandered into the kitchen. Bruce was there at the sink, his hand-me-down designer shirt rolled up to the elbows and protected by a ruffly apron he'd found somewhere.

"Hey, you don't have to do that," she said.

"I know," he said. "I like doing things. You've been so kind to me...and generous. Most of the people I spend time with who actually know what...who I am are afraid. I don't get invited to many dinners. Haven't been for...years."

She shrugged, though he wasn't looking her direction. "Tony trusts you."

"Yeah. Well, he shouldn't. Neither should you, really. I shouldn't even be here."

"Why are you, then?" She grabbed his arm, and he looked slowly from the knife he was scrubbing, up to where her hand met his arm, but no further. He wouldn't meet her eyes.

"I...I'm terribly selfish, I'm afraid. It feels like...a chance. An invitation back to some kind of life," he paused and dropped the sponge into the water. Pepper was looking at his down-turned face, willing him to look at her, so she didn't notice, at first, the drops of blood dripping from his left hand, but some small motion of the water in the sink drew her eyes down, and she saw red spreading through the suds. 

She drew in breath, sharply. The doctor was slicing the knife into the palm of his left hand. He was almost glassy-eyed. She wasn't sure whether he was doing it on purpose. It wasn't even obvious that he knew he was doing it at all. Suddenly, his shoulders began to shake. He looked down at his hands in horror, his eyes suddenly bright green. She froze stock still as he threw the knife away, into the water, a startled growl emanating from the back of his throat.

She wanted to back slowly away, but if he was about to change, backing slowly would get her nowhere -- not nearly far enough. 

He was breathing deeply now, his eyes closed, his hands clutching, white knuckled, onto the edge of the sink. Bruce opened his eyes again and turned to her. The eyes were brown, once again, and full of wild fear and horror. 

"Oh god," he said, "Oh god. I'm sorry," he was shaking, and he turned his head abruptly away. Suddenly she had closed the distance between them and her hand was on his arm. 

"You shouldn't...no one should touch me," he said, an edge of hysteria in his voice she had never heard before. 

"Shh...yes, I should," she very deliberately wrapped her arms around him, capturing his arms to his sides as he shook and quietly bled onto the floor.

He was breathing deeply again, eyes closed, and he relaxed ever so slightly into her as the shaking began to subside.

Not so perfect, after all. Not a superhero. A man, fragile enough to need care, just like Tony. Tony hid it with ego and bombast. Bruce hid it with controlled blankness, but there they both were -- split in two and needing healing and help. Bruce turned slightly towards her, again as she held him. Tony came to the door, saw the hug and turned straight back around again and turned on the screaming rock music he loved.

In a few minutes, he pulled back and looked up at her. Pepper released him silently, and grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink. 

Quickly rubbing the cut with an alcohol, she assessed how deeply the physicist had cut himself. It didn't look too bad. She had experience determining that, thanks to Tony's pigheaded stubborn resistance to going to doctors, she'd learned quite a bit of field medicine over the past few years. She placed gauze over the cut and pressed it firmly into place.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "I'm already putting your partner in danger every day, and now to subject you to this. I'm sorry."

"He puts himself in the danger he chooses, Bruce," said Pepper as she wound hand and gauze with a few layers of tape. "There's nothing you or I or anyone else can do about it. Don't fight it. He will fight back. Believe me, I know. Tony almost always gets what he wants, in the end."

He gave a frown and stepped away.

"Neither of you should be so nice to me. I might get used to it," he said, his face finally cracking into a rueful grin. They both laughed, but Pepper really didn't think that he was joking.

By the time they had finished the dishes and gotten back out to the lounge, Tony had poured drinks for all three of them. He told Bruce some joke that turned on a physics pun that Pepper didn't really get, but which got a groan and half-chuckle out of Bruce. He got them all talking again, in a cheerful way, and by the time Bruce left, some hours later, Pepper was genuinely sorry to see him go. He tried to shake her hand, again, but she pulled him in for another hug, instead. This time, he hugged her back, awkwardly. Tony sidled up to the two of them and hugged him as soon as Pepper released him. He looked nonplussed, but pleased, and he was smiling sheepishly as the elevator closed.

Pepper turned to Tony as soon as she was sure Bruce was safely away. "Okay. I get it."

She stared at Tony. He wouldn't meet her gaze for a long beat.

"I want him," Tony finally acknowledged. He looked her in the eye, "but I NEED you."

"I think he might need me, too. I think he needs both of us."

"I think he really does," Tony said.

"Does that scare you?" she tilted her head sideways and looked at him.

"The world needs me! Why should I be scared that one man does?" He puffed out his chest a little and Pepper giggled. He grinned back at her.

"Because the world needs Iron Man," she said. "The world needs the Chief Technical Officer of Stark Industries. But **he** needs **you** , Tony."

"Okay. Yeah. That's a little scary. And anyway, I don't know if he **wants** me. What if he's only interested in sleeping with you?"

"What if he's only interested in sleeping with you? What if he's not interested in either of us?" she asked.

"Have you seen us? Not physically possible," he said. 

She sighed. They'd cross the 'he's just not that into you' bridge when...and if...they came to it. "It's all right. It is still in my job description to make sure that you get what you want, Mr. Stark."

He gave her a sharp look, "What are you planning, Ms. Potts?"

"Schemes," she said lightly.

"Have I ever told you that I love you and your scheming?"

"Yes, but I think it bears repeating. With details."

"Well, there's all the individual instances of scheming. There's all the plans you lay behind MY back to try to keep me out of trouble. They never work, of course, but still...A for effort. There's getting to know all the people on all our teams. I mean...the databases you must keep..."

As he babbled, she grabbed the hand that wasn't full of a tumbler of twelve-year-old scotch and started dragging him towards the bedroom.

* * *

Bruce took the private elevator back down to his apartment. His life had become unrecognizable to him. Nothing about living here, like this, under the protection of a secret government agency and one of the richest men in the world, seemed real or substantial to him. And the fact that said man and his CEO partner seemed to want to spend time with him blew the last fuse in his brain.

And he had repaid their kindness by letting emotions spill over everywhere.

_Not okay, Banner,_ he thought. _Of all people you should not be the one to let your emotions spill over._

He managed to get all the way inside the rooms Tony had given him three weeks ago when he arrived. It was bigger than any apartment he had ever lived in: spacious, lofty, furnished in the aggressively modern style Tony preferred (or maybe it was Pepper's preference - he should ask), full of windows and every simple and subtle comfort and convenience.

Bruce hated it a little. And hated even more that he could never, never repay this level of kindness. Or if he did it would be by smashing the place to pieces by accident.

He leaned against the door and then slid slowly down it.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," he said, punctuating each epithet by slamming his head back into the metal with a satisfying thunk.

He did not deserve to be here. The situation was untenable. Here he was, high above Manhattan and because of what? Because he couldn't get a lid on the other guy. Because someone found his insufficiency in that regard terribly useful, and they would want him to do it again.

"No," he couldn't help himself. Years roaming parts of the globe where he might be able to help and barely spoke the language(s) around him had given him the inveterate habit of talking aloud to himself. It was enough effort to keep from doing it when anyone else was there, let alone when he was by himself.

And how strange to be by himself. The amount of privacy and silence Tony could afford in the middle of one of the biggest cities in the world...it boggled the mind. Bruce caught his breath and listened to that silence.

As he sat, slumped against the door, something crystallized inside him. He needed to leave. Now. Tony and Pepper didn't understand how bad and dangerous it was to be around him. He would hurt them, it would happen eventually. He would screw this up and then he would have to leave in disgrace, knowing that the other guy...that he had hurt the only people who had treated him like a human being in the last ten years.

He leapt up at this, dashed for his bedroom, out of long habit reaching for switches that weren't there, as the lights followed him, seemingly of their own accord. He grabbed the SHIELD-issued duffel that Natasha had handed him when the team had gone their separate ways. (She had assured him that she had scanned it for bugs, trackers and listening devices herself, and removed them all. Tony had scanned it, too, but had found none. Natasha knew her spy stuff.)

He opened his closet and the two drawers of the enormous black lacquered dresser that he was actually using and contemplated the possessions he had collected since he had come. Not much. Still more than he had before. He first carefully undressed and hung up the grey slacks and yellow shirt Tony had given him and smoothed them out as best he could. Tony might not want them back - he doubted the billionaire would've given him clothes he really cared about - but he couldn't take them. They were too nice. Too good for him. Not clothes to risk the constant threat of the sudden appearance of the other guy in.

Plus they reminded him of Tony. So...no.

He carelessly gathered up all his thrift store finds, tossed a pair of rumpled pants and an old oxford shirt onto the bed and stuffed the rest into the duffel. He grabbed the pile of identical boxer-briefs he'd bought with the tiny fraction he'd managed to spend of the ridiculously large stipend Tony had seen fit to assign him, tossed one pair onto the pile on the bed and sent the rest into the bag.

It was still nowhere near full.

He turned to the other, more difficult drawer. It was full of the things he'd gathered since he came that actually meant anything. The Stark technology Tony handed him, seemingly every other day: laptop, tablet, phone, tiny black thing with a clip on back that Tony insisted was an MP3 player, but Bruce had still not learned to use, a thing that looked like a wristwatch from a distance, but which actually monitored vital signs, the earpiece for his phone, the most ridiculously light and powerful headphones Bruce had ever seen...other assorted odds and ends.

A pen and pencil set with his name on it and the Stark industries logo that Ms. Potts...Pepper had sent when he agreed to sign on with the company. He had found that a little laughable, given that he wasn't even sure where, in the building, to find a piece of paper. He suspected that it might be more common on the office levels than the lab levels, but he'd had to request a notebook specially and Tony had rolled his eyes.

Next to all the tech and corporate swag, a short stack of old fashioned paper goods. A book that Thor's lady friend who, much to his delight, had turned out to be _the_ Jane Foster, had sent for Bruce to take a look at - an astrophysical text a colleague of hers had written. Tucked into that, a sketch Steve had done of the Hulk, mouth open in a roar, the prone body of Tony laid out beneath the other guy in the Iron Man suit. It was a rough sketch, but he had wanted to know what happened and Thor and Clint had drunkenly tried to explain (they enjoyed getting drunk and recounting stories of battles and missions), meanwhile Steve had been busily sketching and had handed him this. He tucked the sketch back into the book and decided to take them both. Into the bag they went.

Underneath was a crisp cream-colored piece of paper folded into precise thirds. He opened up and revealed a pageful of Natasha's careful hand. He sat on the edge of the bed and re-read the note that he had found at the bottom of his duffel when he'd unpacked it three weeks ago

Dear Bruce,

I know you think I am afraid of you. Believe me, you aren't the only teammate who has tried to kill me. You didn't betray me. You didn't intentionally turn the tables on me. You lost control as the result of the deliberate provocation of an evil man.

Do not be concerned that I will hold it against you. We are on the same team, you and I. I am not so used to having a team and I know you are less so. It has its advantages, Doctor. You'll see. Just stick with us long enough to find out.

Do not forget that I once deliberately betrayed all I had been brought up to know and if I hadn't, I wouldn't be here. I know what it is like to be the one on a squad that no one else trusts or should trust. I am worse than you. Don't ever forget it. I am worse than you, and I know you still trust me. That means you have to trust yourself.

In the meantime, if you ever want to talk about what it's like to contain multitudes against your will, you can always call me. We're part of a team, now. Perfection is not necessary, but trust is. Let me be there for you when you need it.

\- Tasha

As it had the only other time he'd read it, the letter perplexed and stymied him. Part of a team? This, claimed by the woman the other guy had nearly killed, not by accident or collaterally, but because he was angry at SHIELD, angry at her and what she represented, angry at what they were doing, angry they'd pulled him back from a life that was working well enough.

But...if anyone was worse than Bruce, she might be it. For certain values of worse. One thing could be said for her. She had stone control of herself, at all times. Her iron self-control never seemed to waver. She had broken Loki the way he never could have done: through sheer, unadulterated self-mastery.

The letter had given him pause. He sighed, and took the book back out of his duffel. He tucked the letter into it next to the drawing, tossed the book onto the bed and then grabbed up the duffel, upending it over the floor and watching as his meager stack of garments collapsed out of it into an unceremonious heap on the floor. He sat back down heavily on the edge of the bed and let his Head fall into his hands.

He should leave. He can't leave. He's an asshole whether he does or doesn't. He will hurt people no matter what.

"I fucking hate myself," he said into his hands.

He heard a noise that sounded like a throat clearing and sprang off the bed looking around. He fought down a momentary surge of panic as he searched for the origin of the sound.

"If you'll excuse me, Sir, it seems like you're in some distress," said the even-keeled disembodied voice of Tony's AI butler.

Bruce's jaw opened and closed a few times, noiselessly.

"Jarvis," he finally croaked out. "What are you...? What?"

"Do you need assistance, Sir?"

"Yes...no."

"I am happy to do anything I can for you."

"I don't deserve any help," Bruce muttered under his breath.

"With all due respect, Sir, I don't believe that Mr. Stark would be pleased with me if I operated as if that were the case."

"Damn it!" Bruce nearly shrieked. Even Tony's fucking computer mind was being too nice to him. Didn't the thing know....."Jarvis, don't you understand I'm a killer? Do killers deserve...anything?"

There was a pause before the voice replied. Bruce wondered, in an analytical corner of his brain that was always processing things, even when the rest of his brain was locked into a negative emotional spiral, whether that was due to processing time or if the adaptive system knew dramatic effect.

"Mr. Stark estimates that weaponry produced by Stark Industries during his own tenure as CEO was responsible for the deaths of roughly 1,290,400 people around the world. Weapons he personally designed or upgraded accounting for approximately one-quarter of that number."

Bruce's jaw dropped again. Tony had done the math. He hadn't known the charismatic genius engineer for long, but the fact that he had done the math meant he had thought long and hard about it. He was a killer, too. So was Tasha. How could he reconcile his own urge to punish himself with the fact he would have said those two were worthy of any and all help.

_I'm worse_ he thought _I'm worse. It was never my job to be a killer_. He believed that even though his analytical mind was pointing out all the flaws in that logic.

"Are you sure there is no one I can call for you? Nothing I can get for you?" Jarvis asked, voice still perfectly level. Bruce's inner analyst wondered whether he could show more emotion and chose not to, or if he only had so much range of expression coded in.

"I...uh, no," said Bruce. "No, I'm okay. Don't bother anyone. I think I'm going to...I think I'm going to sleep on it."

"Very well, Sir."

Bruce headed for the shower. And if the AI could see or hear him kneeling in the soft flow of the water, alternating between racking sobs and dry heaves, it judiciously said nothing. Jarvis merely dimmed the lights for Bruce when he emerged and sunk gracelessly into bed, and then the AI turned them all the way off as, feeling thoroughly wrung out, the physicist drifted off to sleep, clutching a large book to his body. 

* * *

Tony Stark awoke to bright sunlight, sprawled in the middle of his enormous, rumpled bed. He lifted his head to look around. He was alone, but in a fantastic mood.

"Jarvis?" he called out as he sprang from his bed.

"Yes, sir?"

"Did Pepper take off already?" he asked. He was sure she had. She kept more regular hours as CEO than he ever had.

"She left several hours ago, Sir."

"Of course she did. She's responsible and diligent."

"I would have to agree, Sir," the A.I. responded.

"I can almost hear the 'unlike yourself' appended to the end of that sentence, Jarvis," said Tony. He headed for the bathroom and started going through his morning routine, without ceasing the conversation.

"Far be it from me to...,"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blah, blah. Standard disclaimer. I know what I know. You make your opinions of me very clear," the billionaire said with a grin.

"I find that honesty is an important aspect of a successful relationship," Jarvis responded.

Really? I don't know where you learned that. Wasn't from me," Tony said.

"I suppose it was from Miss Potts then, Sir," the A.I. said.

Tony snorted at this and got into the shower, making continued conversation difficult.

Of course it had been from Pepper. If the AI had learned anything from Tony about honesty, *he* had learned it from Pepper, so it was one and the same.

It had been the first night they'd tumbled in to bed together that Pepper had laid down ground rules for their relationship. She had always done that. The boundaries were always hers. Tony never knew from boundaries till he blazed across them, burning everything in his wake.

The first round of sex had been enthusiastic and animalistic and overwhelming. He kept talking all through it - he said her name over and over, and anything else that floated through his mind that seemed true. He promised her cars and houses and countries and eternities of fidelity if only they could go on feeling that way.

When they were done and he was collapsed on the bed, covered with a sheen of sweat. She had padded lightly out to the kitchen and brought back a snack - ever her prepared self, even in the face of a major paradigm shift.

"Look, Tony, we both know you'll promise anything, right now," she had said, in between bites. "And then you'll kill yourself trying to keep a promise that's making you miserable."

"It wouldn't..."

She cut him off, "I've seen you do it for other things, mostly when you've promised yourself. To me, from over here, it looks like there are two options, if I listen to you."

She took another sushi roll lightly in hand and leaned forward over the little container of soy sauce to eat it. He let his hand slide down the smooth slope of her naked back and rest down by that heartbreakingly lovely ass.

"What are your options?" he asked.

"First, I could be right. You will take promises to me as seriously as the ones you make yourself. And you'll break your back to keep them and it'll make you miserable, and I'll get to watch in close proximity, as something that's supposed to make your world better makes it worse and worse."

He wrinkled his forehead at that. "And the other?"

"It turns out that you don't take your promises to me as seriously as the ones you make yourself. You don't take them seriously, and we carry on as we always have, but you try to do your...side-trips behind my back and betraying me the whole time."

He twisted his whole body to look at her. That had stung. Tony raised his naked knees up and wrapped his arms around them, forehead still tightened into a mask of worry.

"Well, what's the alternative? What do you want me to say, Pep?"

"I want you to tell me the truth. I appreciate that you're feeling so strongly about me right now, believe me." She spoke softly and reached out to brush finger tips across his forehead and down one cheek to his signature goatee. "Let's just keep it to the facts."

"Which facts?"

"How do you feel about me, Mr. Stark?"

"I love you," he responded without hesitation.

"Good. I love you, too, Tony."

She stopped speaking and started eating sushi again, as if that was all she had to say.

"But...wait. Aren't the sweeping promises how most people demonstrate their love?" he had asked her.

She laughed easily and it sent shivers down his spine.

"Since when are you like anyone else? And since when am I, for that matter?"

"That is a very good point, Ms. Potts. You are extraordinary."

"Extraordinary enough to want to know the truth and to want to continue helping you to get what you want," he grinned, and reached for her again. She put a hand on his wrist to arrest the movement. "Even if what you want is somebody else."

They'd done some serious back-and-forth over the details of the open relationship. They wrote it out in a little contract that wouldn't hold up in any court, anywhere, but it was useful to have everything as clear as possible. They filed it with Jarvis, and left arbitration up to him.

And honestly, Pepper had used it more than he had. He had found it easy enough to get laid as Tony Stark, billionaire playboy, but finding someone you can trust enough to fall asleep beside when you've got the most advanced piece of military gear in the history of all time within easy reach was no mean feat. Even if it was keyed to respond just to him, it was also so very easy to steal in suitcase form, and if even part of its systems were reverse-engineered and people were put in danger as a result...he couldn't forgive himself for that.

So, most of his one-night stands were more like one-hour stands in the shadowy recesses or glory-holed bathrooms of gay bars, the glow of the arc reactor hidden behind gaffer's tape. Pepper would ride wingman with the suit, on these occasions, sitting at the bar drinking ridiculous-looking concoctions that were basically fruit juice with umbrellas.

There were rumors, naturally. Pepper had to do some PR management, but then, she always had, and she had signed up for this.

But Bruce was a new dimension to the bargain. His intelligence, introversion, restraint, control...the man was like a pool Tony couldn't see to the bottom of, but he was convinced it was made of something precious and rare.

There was also the raw, physical appeal of the man. In clothes, Bruce looked every inch the absent-minded professor he should have spent his life being: disheveled and elbow-patched. Kind of like he'd wandered out of an Eddie Bauer ad 20 years ago and had spent the intervening time rolling around on the floor. 

Or, really, like someone had already grabbed him by the belt loops, pulled him close and mauled him and run their fingers through his shaggy hair, the way Tony wanted to every third minute they spent together.

He got out of the shower and Jarvis spoke to him again.

"Sir, Miss Potts called while you were in the shower. Should I try to reach her?"

"Yeah, Jarvis, go ahead," he replied, as he rubbed a towel swiftly over himself and then wrapped it around his waist and plodded into the bedroom.

The phone rang only a few times and, just as he slid into a pair of black jeans, she picked up.

"Hi, Tony," she said.

"Hey, Babe," he said, "What's up? Jarvis said you were trying to reach me?"

"Yes, I was. I wanted to talk a bit more about what we were talking about last night."

"The thing where I dress up as Fury next time? I thought that was a joke," he said. He could almost hear her softly pounding her head into the desk in the pause that followed.

"No. Not that. The thing with Dr. Banner,"

"Bruce?"

"Yes, Bruce," she amended.

Tony had a moment of half-panic, "You're not going back on that, are you? Pepper, I swear he's a great guy and I think we could help him and..."

She cut him off, "NO! Tony, I told you. I'm on board. I don't have time to reassure you right now, but I'm on board if we can get him on board."

"Will you reassure me later?"

"I will pencil you in," she said. He could tell she was smiling in that indulgent way she did when she thought he was being ridiculous. He got to see that smile a lot.

"Good. Let's say an hour of reassurance followed by three hours of blind debauchery. And write it in pen," he said.

She laughed. That was good.

"What I wanted to say, Tony," she said determinedly, "Is do not jump into anything. Or you will ruin my schemes."

"I never ruin your schemes," he said.

"You always ruin my schemes."

"Hardly ever," he insisted.

"That's just because half of my schemes are schemes to keep you from ruining the other half of my schemes," she replied.

This time he laughed. 

"God, I love you," he said. 

"I know," she replied, and barreled on refusing to be distracted, "Anyhow, go slow. Do not take last night's accord between the two of us as permission to jump straight into Bruce's pant-legs." 

"I would never. When have I..."

"Should I get Jarvis to recite a list?" she asked. "Anyhow, my scheming wheels are in motion. Natasha is taking him out to lunch."

Tony wrinkled his forehead perplexedly. "What? Why? How is this relevant?"

"Step one: Make sure Bruce knows he's allowed to have help. Step two: Help Bruce. Step three: Bruce helps himself, with established cycle of help from us. Step four: Startle the good Doctor with slutty proposals."

"That sounds like it's going to take forever," Tony whined.

"You want to do this the right way or your way?" she asked.

"I did it my way with you, that turned out okay."

"After years, several false starts and at least one literal heart failure," she said. "And anyway, I did not have nearly as much to contend with as Bruce does," she replied.

"Have I ever told you that you are a genius?" he asked her.

"Yes, but you were always exaggerating."

"No, really. I think you must be the people-savviest person on the planet," he said.

"Being more people-savvy than you does not make me a genius, Tony. It might just mean I'm average, honestly," she said.

"Oooh, come on, that stings."

"The truth hurts!" she said brightly, "I have to go run your company. I'll call you at lunch."

"Wait! But!"

She was laughing again as she rung off.

So...go slow, act cautious? _Not like I couldn't have figured that out for myself,_ he thought, _especially when it comes to Banner and the Big Green._

_I totally would have done that, anyway_ he thought. _Probably._

* * *


	2. What nerds get the woman who has everything.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How do you say 'Sorry I almost turned into a giant green monster in your kitchen' and 'Thanks for not fleeing in terror'? Bruce attempts to figure that out.

Bruce awoke the next morning with an unfounded surge of adrenaline, and laid in bed, clammy with cold sweat. 

_Deep breaths_ he thought, and took his own advice. In...out... _let's reclaim the equilibrium._

When his heart had stopped pounding in his ears, he managed to unclench his fist from around handfuls of sheet and sit up. He groped for the bedside table before he remembered his wristwatch had broken during the...incident on the helicarrier. With all he'd broken that day, he hadn't been able to bring himself to ask for the remains of the watch.

His eyes involuntarily strayed over the bedside table and across the walls, even though he knew there was no clock anywhere. He usually set an alarm on his Stark Tablet, but he had forgotten the night before.

He sighed and sat up, and bowed to the inevitable.

"Uh...hello?" he said, tentatively. "Jarvis?"

"Good morning, Sir. Is there something I can help you with?"

"What time is it?" said Bruce, groping for the window to open the blinds. 

"Allow me, sir," the blinds slid open revealing the full-sunlight of mid-morning. "It is quarter after ten. You have a luncheon appointment at twelve thirty and one pending voice message from Ms. Potts."

"I was supposed to get up at seven," he said.

"I'm sorry. You didn't inform me of that, Sir, or I could have wakened you."

"No...it's...just when I usually get up," said Bruce, quietly. His shoulders slumped as he sat down on the bed and he leaned elbows on knees and looked at his toes. 

"You were up rather later than your ordinary time last night, if I may say, Sir."

"Ah...ah...yeah. But I should be at work."

"Ms. Potts has left a message with me that might be relevant, Sir."

"Ohhhhkay?" said Bruce.

"Shall I play it?"

"Please do."

Suddenly Pepper's voice filled the room, sounding so clear and present that Bruce almost jumped. 

"Hey, Bruce. Thank you for coming over, last night. It was great to spend some time with you. I hope we can do it again, soon."

"Natasha called after you left and wanted to kidnap you for lunch today. She checked with me about your schedule, and as your boss, I decided to free it up. You have the day off. Try not to worry about anything."

He laughed a little bitterly at that.

"I will see you soon!" Pepper's voice said brightly and the call ended.

Okay. So. What was he supposed to do with himself for a whole day away from the lab? How could he justify being here, if he wasn't going to work? 

He took himself through his morning routine in the eerie silence of his apartment: Meditation and deep breathing, a series of stretches, an hour of concentrating on his body, his mind, the way they interact and the extent of his mastery over that interaction. He spent part of that time concentrating on his anger. It used to be something he avoided, now it was something he kept constantly in sight. He reached for it frequently, like someone checking for their keys and wallet every time they stood up -- not to use it, just to make sure it was where it should be.

He picked up the pile of his clothes off the floor, and shoved most of them unceremoniously back into drawers and got dressed, then headed to the kitchen to make coffee. 

"Uh...Jarvis?" he hazarded, as the coffee was brewing.

"Yes, sir," the calm android voice responded. 

"I was just wondering, are you always on? Are you always monitoring me?"

"I monitor the entire building at all times," was the voice's response. "Generally the monitoring remains passive unless someone asks for me - automatic systems only, like the lights and security and such. Please do not be concerned for your privacy. I protect any data I gather here with the same safeguards I use on Mister Stark's private data. No one has access unless he or Miss Potts should use an emergency override."

"Well, what about you? You have access."

"I meant people or organizations. I am a computer."

Bruce stood and contemplated that assertion. The AI was clearly trying to diminish his fears, but the damn thing had intelligence, judgement and...suddenly, the analytical part of his mind flipped to the previous night. The AI had addressed him out of nowhere. It had tried to cheer him up. It had intelligence, judgement and compassion. That was enough to make it...him like a person to Bruce. Hell, it was more than many people he'd encountered had. 

On the other hand, he had no choice other than to trust Jarvis, or to leave. That second he'd dispensed with the previous night. That left him only with the first.

"Ah, well. I trust you, Jarvis. At least as much as anyone else around here." he said. _Please don't make me regret it._ he added, silently. 

"Hey, can you help me with something?" he asked the AI.

"It's very probable that I can, Sir." 

"Whoa. You don't need to call me Sir. I uh...just use my name, okay?"

"Very well, Dr. Banner."

Hadn't quite been what he meant, but it seemed like a reasonable middle ground, so he let it drop.

"I'd like to get flowers for Ms. Potts. Can you tell me where there's a florist?" 

"I can," he said. "I could just order them for you, though, Dr. Banner," he said. 

"I'd rather get them, myself," he responded. 

"Very well. There are several florists within a five-block radius. I've mapped them on the coffee table, if you'd care to look."

Bruce turned away from pouring the cup of freshly-brewed coffee to see that a holographic blue wire-frame map had, indeed, sprung up from the surface of the low-slung table. 

"Thank you," he responded, and took a sip. God. Even the coffee was too good for him. 

He contemplated the map a second.

"Is there any way I can take this with me?" he asked.

"I've already sent it to your STARKphone, Dr. Banner," the AI responded. 

"Thank you," he said, again, and went back into the bedroom to fish the thing out of the drawer. 

"If you'd care to wear the earpiece, I can give you directions on the way there."

"I don't think that's necessary, Jarvis, thanks." he said. 

Bruce got his wallet, the phone and slipped into his jacket and out of the apartment before the AI could be helpful, again. 

"I'll be back soon," he found himself assuring Jarvis. 

He made it to the shop without pulling out the phone, but once he was there, he felt the thing buzz in his pocket. When he pulled it out, there was a message saying "message received" and a button he could click to look at it. When he did so, he found this message:

"Dr. Banner,

Ms. Potts is allergic to strawberries. In case you added any other potential gifts to the intended flowers, I thought you should know. 

Also, her registered flower preferences are, in descending order: peonies, daisies, calla lilies, roses, carnations, anything that smells nice. She prefers not to receive live plants at home, as she is frequently traveling, but does not mind receiving them at the office if they are hearty. 

I have a cross-referenced database of her preferences in many other categories. If you would find that data helpful, please call me or message me and I can provide you with information in response to several specific queries.

-J.A.R.V.I.S."

Bruce sighed. This felt wrong...like cheating. Not that he didn't want Pepper to get the flowers she wanted, but if she had so many preferences listed, well, someone (Tony) must buy her flowers pretty frequently. Bruce found himself wondering if this was really the gift you get someone for them being really nice about you having put them in an extraordinariy dangerous situation.

Then again, what was the gift for that? He suspected the greeting card people had no solution. 

He looked for a button that would allow him to respond and thank Jarvis, even though the AI had thoroughly removed the wind from his sails. Then he smiled apologetically at the cheerfully expectant woman behind the counter and went back out of the shop.

He walked around a little aimlessly, then. He still wanted to get something for her, but he had no idea what it should be. He looked in a jewelry shop, but thought it was a bit much, coming from a relative stranger. Anyway, he still wasn't used to the idea that any of that stuff would be in his price range. The thought of spending two thousand dollars on a pair of earrings made his brain rebel and he went back out, again.

He wandered through a department store. Everything in the neighborhood of Stark Tower seemed to be upscale and expensive (now that most of the minor repairs had been completed and the major ones were well underway, in the wake of the attack). He was surprised he wasn't being hurried out of the store, given his thrift-store clothes and discomfort. The clerks were giving him some sidelong glances, though, and he slunk out, even though he did have money he could spend, there. Nothing he saw had seemed right.

Anyway, he could never impress Pepper with money. She had money. What he needed was something interesting that took into account her tastes and preferences while adding something to her life that hadn't been there, before.

"Oh sure. Don't over-think it or anything," muttered Bruce to himself, as he walked down the street. 

"Over-think what?" asked Natasha, in her usual quiet voice. 

Bruce jumped about a foot in the air with a startled noise and looked at the agent with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. 

She stared impassively at him while he recovered himself. He wondered if she was checking to see whether his eyes had gone green. He knew they hadn't, though. He had it under control enough that simple surprise wouldn't even come close.

"Hang on," she said and put up one slim finger as she put her other hand to her ear and spoke in a series of short sentences punctuated by silence.

"Yup...I've got him. He's fine...Wandering through shops, I think...Yeah...He is?...All right...I'll take it from here, thanks."

She looked back at Bruce and gave him a quiet smile. She was in casual street clothes that fit perfectly and were impeccable, though not flashy, in style. Her bearing conveyed quiet attention and didn't attract any attention of its own by being overly military.

"Over-think what?" she repeated.

"How did you find me?"

"You weren't there when I turned up for our lunch date and I'm a spy. Also, you left your phone on, so it really wasn't that difficult."

"You can track me through my phone?"

"Anyone can track anyone through any phone unless adequate measures are taken to prevent it. 'Adequate' is a swiftly moving target. Anyway, Jarvis keeps tabs on all our phones all the time," she said and tightened her lips. Clearly, she wasn't actually pleased about that.

"I'd chuck mine into the river, but I did that with the last six. Stark just keeps giving them to me. I'm working on shielding that blocks the tracker instead."

"Competition." she said, smiling again. "Which is better: my stealth or his tech? Should improve both, if we keep it up."

She looked at him with a steady gaze. 

"Come on, Doc. Let's go get lunch," she said, putting a hand on his elbow and guiding him along the street. "I'll see if I can help you with your over-thinking problem. Maybe you can help me with one of mine."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. What problem could she possibly have that he could help her with?

"Trouble with the electromagnetic spectrum?" he asked.

She just kept smiling and propelling them forward.

The spot she had chosen for their lunch turned out to be a low-key deli with piled-high sandwiches, made-on-site kosher dill pickles and a variety of traditional foods from Russia and Ukraine. They had perogies (also made on site) that you could buy fresh or frozen to take home and cook. They had borscht. They had things Bruce couldn't identify that seemed to involve cabbage and meat and potatoes. 

When she ordered, in Russian, at the counter, the old man serving them grinned broadly and responded in a torrent of words. Natasha laughed at something he said, and Bruce realized he had never heard her laugh, before, at all.

It made him sad that he hadn't been aware of the absence of her laughter until he had actually heard it. 

Suddenly, he realized he was being introduced to the old man. He smiled and held out his hand to shake his.

"She says you don't speak Russian," the old man said in heavily accented English, "but that you're okay anyhow."

Bruce grinned his rueful grin.

"I do my best, Sir."

"You're a friend of Nataliya, you call me Anton! You tell me what you want."

"I am guessing I couldn't do better than to have what she's having." 

Anton smiled broadly and his whole face wrinkled, drawn up into the expression. He took Bruce's hand in both of his and shook it.

"Your young man, he's no fool!" he said to Natasha.

She tilted her head to the side. "I told you!" she said. 

Anton released Bruce from his warm grip and bustled off to get their order. 

"You're not going to explain that I'm not your boyfriend?" he asked her.

The beautiful agent chuckled. 

"Oh, he doesn't think that. He meant you're mine like a pet." 

Bruce laughed aloud, trailing after her to sit at the table she commandeered in the corner. She sat facing the door, back to the wall. He usually would've taken the same seat, himself - lifelong habit of a person on the run - if she hadn't gotten there first.

He tried to relax with his back to the world; tried to relax into the knowledge that she was doing the looking out for both of them.

They sat, for a moment, in uncomfortable silence. He tried not to do the mental arithmetic that proved this was the first time they'd been anything like alone together since he transformed on the helicarrier, but he couldn't help it. He searched Natasha's face for any indication that her thoughts were bent in a similar direction, but could find none. She looked cheerful, her face quirked into the lopsided smile she used when she seemed the most comfortable with herself.

"Heads up, Anton is headed our way," she said, quietly, justifying his earlier exercise in faith by giving him fair warning just before a calloused hand clapped onto his shoulder and the accented voice boomed from above his head. 

"I give you some extra of what's good, today," he said, putting full plates and cups of soup down before each of them. "Eat! Enjoy!" 

The man retreated again to deal with several new customers who were entering at that moment. Under the new hubbub of noise the group brought with them, Bruce ventured to speak.

"I take it you come here often," he said.

"A few times a week, when I'm in town," she agreed. 

"You've brought people here a lot?" he asked.

"I never really had anybody to bring," she said, with a shrug.

"Clint?" 

"Clint," she agreed "Once or twice." 

"So, what's this problem you were mentioning?" he asked. 

"Clint is the problem," she said, her face dropping back into seriousness. "I wanted to talk to you about him. He still blames himself for what happened with Loki -- all the things he did while he was under control of the tesseract staff."

Bruce wrinkled his forehead. "Why shouldn't he?" 

"Because, he was under mind control, not choosing his actions and therefore the things he did were not his fault."

"I take it you haven't had any luck convincing him of that."

She exhaled long and slowly, directing the air stream up so it ruffled her hair in an uncharacteristically girlish gesture. 

"I have not," she said. "And he isn't talking to the psychiatric team. I mean, he goes, but he's not talking about the things he really needs to be talking about."

"How do you know that?"

"Spy." she said, pointedly, gesturing her fork at her own chest.

"What about doctor/patient confidentiality?" he asked. 

"It's grossly over-rated. No secrets from family," she said. 

Bruce shuddered at that. She was right. There were some people you couldn't keep secrets from. That didn't make it a good thing. Sometimes it was a monstrous thing. 

She looked intently at him, but said nothing about the involuntary movement or about his face, which he felt certain she could read with her impassive eyes. He felt thoroughly exposed. That almost made him shudder, again. He suppressed it, but couldn't help crossing his arms over his chest for a moment and dropping his eyes to his plate while she looked. 

"Anyway," she said, electing to move on. "You're just about the master of living with guilt for things you never intended or chose to do. I was wondering if you could talk to him about it."

He looked up into her eyes with surprise. 

"Me?" he said. "I mean, haven't you got experience with that, too?" 

"Doc, I try to make amends for what I did in my past. I do that every day. It's because I'm still proving myself. I will always be proving myself to my partner, to my organization, to this whole country.

"It's not because I feel guilty. I didn't choose to do the things I did. I was brainwashed and pressed into service as a child. Ever since I've gotten my freedom, I have used it in the best way I know how. I don't see how I could do any better than that. I know the things I did were wrong. Some of the things I do now aren't actually that right by anyone's moral scale. They aren't the best things I could be doing. They're the best options I have at the time I make the decisions I make. That's all I can do. That's all I have to work with."

She shrugged and looked unconcerned. Bruce suspected she might be exaggerating her own inner equilibrium, but if she was, she faked it remarkably well.

"So you want me to help because I am guilty and ashamed and you think I know how to deal with the shame and guilt feelings?"

"I think you do deal with them every day, and you're still sitting here, sipping cabbage soup." 

He took another spoonful and swallowed it, before pointing out what to him was the bitterly obvious.

"I wouldn't be sitting here if it weren't for my alter-ego," he said. "I really tried not to be sitting here." 

"So you already know what the endgame is if we don't give Clint some help." 

"Are you that worried about him?," Bruce looked at her face

"Doc, I am very worried," her head was still tilted down at her plate, but her eyes were looking in his direction. Gauging, measuring, appraising always. 

Bruce sighed, rubbed a hand through his hair and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well, I'll talk to him. I can't guarantee results or...anything. I'll do what I can. I'll do my best," he found himself promising as he looked up at her, again. "I don't think I can make him feel better, though."

"I don't think he needs to feel better. I think he needs to learn how to be able to cope with feeling like shit. I hope that 'better' will come with time. Right now he doesn't need a ladder, he needs a bridge over the deepest part of the chasm. He needs to know that it's okay to feel awful...for a while." 

Bruce nodded. He lived on that bridge. He should be able to help someone else build one. 

He thoughtfully ate several bites of what was on his plate. He couldn't identify it, but it turned out to be something pickled that tasted pretty good.

"So what was the problem that was causing a genius to over-think something?" she asked after they had both been chewing in silence for a few minutes.

"I was trying to figure out a present to get for the woman who has everything," he said with a wry chuckle.

She smiled again.

"Pepper is really hard to buy for, before you get to know her," she said.

"You know her?" he asked in surprise.

"I was under-cover at Stark Industries for ages right after Stark first built the suit, reporting to SHIELD about his activities and the activities of the people around him," she said. "She and I started working together pretty closely. I think once she found out I was a spy, she actually trusted me more. I wasn't Stark's favorite person, though. I guess I'm still not."

"I wouldn't know. He and I don't really talk about other people, for the most part," he said. 

She rolled her eyes at that admission. 

"Color me shocked," she said, voice dripping with quiet irony. "He hides everything."

Bruce raised his eyebrows in surprise. That didn't track with what he'd seen of the billionaire engineer. He seemed like one of the most open people Bruce knew and every emotion and invitation and urging had appeared genuine, to him. He wondered if Natasha assumed everyone was hiding something (might be a hazard of the job) or if there was so much about the other man he'd been missing.

"So," Natasha was saying. "What did Pepper do to deserve a present?"

"She didn't tell you?" he asked, surprised, again. "I almost Hulked out on her at dinner the other night. I kept it under control, but I put her in danger and she was...well, really nice about it."

Natasha nodded, and suddenly, looking at her, he realized something.

"Of course, by that logic, I owe you a house or my firstborn or something," he said.

She smiled and shook her head.

"You manage to help Clint, we'll call it even," she said. 

"And if I don't?" he lowered his eyes to stare at his now mostly empty plate, again.

"You will," she said with a quiet confidence in her voice that he could barely stand to have directed at him. She sat as he ate the last of what was on his plate.

"You finished?" she asked. 

He nodded. 

"Then let's go shopping for the woman who has everything," she said.

* * *

Pepper was not surprised when one of her phalanx of assistants announced that there was a man hoping to see her who had no appointment or invitation to do so. That happened all the time. She was, however, surprised when Dave reported the man was Doctor Bruce Banner.

"He says he knows you're busy and he can come back later if this is inconvenient. Ms. Romanoff was with him, but she took off already," the young man said. 

"Well, show him in, Dave. I have a few minutes before the next meeting, right?" she asked, with a sigh.

"You actually don't have any more meetings today, Ms. Potts," he said. "The V.P. of finance had to push back the meeting because of the..."

She cut him off. "Right because of the...and he had to go to L.A."

"Right," he responded with a grin.

Pepper didn't love everything about being C.E.O., but she had to admit it was nice to have someone else be her backup brain and try to finish her unfinished sentences the way she used to do for Tony. 

She grinned back.

"In that case, definitely show Dr. Banner in and hold my calls," she said. 

"Will do, ma'am." The crisply tailored man exited and was, in short order, replaced by the much less sharply-dressed scientist poking his head cautiously into the office, as though he were afraid something was going to take it off.

"Bruce," she said, warmly. She got up from her desk and came around to shake his hand and usher him to the sofa opposite the tall windows that made up one whole wall of her office. 

"Come on in. Have a seat," she said, smiling.

"If you're sure it's no trouble," he said. He somehow looked smaller in the posh surroundings of her office than he'd looked before in the penthouse. He was fooling with his shirt-cuffs and then his glasses as he sat on the edge of the sofa, putting a bag down on the floor next to him. 

"How was lunch?"

He gave her a swift half-smile. 

"It was good, I think," he said. "I'm not sure. I'm still doing the post-game on that. I might need to change my work schedule a little. Or a lot. It's not clear."

Pepper's forehead wrinkled. She was not at all clear on how lunch and his future work schedule were related. She looked into his down-turned face with confusion.

He glanced upward, noticed her expression and seemed to realized he had skipped a step. 

"Natasha has asked me for a favor," he explained. "It might turn out to be kind of time-intensive, and I'm not sure when or...when I'm going to get it done." 

"Oh," he face cleared in an instant. "That's no problem. You can always make your own schedule, Bruce. You're not on a leash, here." 

He slumped back and fiddled with his glasses, wiping them on the edge of his rumpled shirt for a moment in silence. For a long beat, she wondered if that had been all he had had to tell her. She just waited, smiling at him from the armchair she had chosen opposite where he was sitting. 

"I...uh...I brought you something," he said, when his glasses were back on his face. "It's just a little...I wanted to say thank you."

"For dinner? You didn't need to do that."

"Oh. Well, not exactly. It's a thank you for being so nice to me and so welcoming in general and for running the risks of having me in your home."

She laughed and he looked up at her, again. 

"You definitely don't need to get me a present for that, Bruce. It's very thoughtful of you, but I was glad to have you, risks or no." 

"Please," he said. He was looking at her face, and when she returned the look, his eyes met hers and gripped them with his earnest sincerity. "I want to. I mean. I wanted to do **something**."

He grabbed the bag from its place by his feet and stood up and placed it into her lap. 

"I wasn't sure what to get you. Jarvis and Natasha tried to help, but I wound up picking something on my own, so if it's wrong, it's my fault, not theirs," he said, his smile rueful.

"I shouldn't keep taking up your time," he said, still standing by her chair and shifting his weight from foot to foot as if he was already imagining himself walking out the door.

"You're not taking up my time," she said. "It's really nice to see you. Come by any time. I'll let my staff know you're a priority one."

He shot her an alarmed look. 

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"Just means that when you want to see me, you usually get to, unless I'm right in the middle of something." 

He looked surprised. "Isn't that just for...Tony?" he asked.

She laughed, again. 

"Are you kidding? If I made Tony a priority one, he'd abuse it like crazy. He's a tier three, but he ignores that half the time and barges in, anyway."

She turned the most radiant smile she could muster on him.

"But you won't abuse it and you will take no for an answer if I am in the middle of something. So you win."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times and she could almost see the gears clicking in his brain, but he didn't actually ask her any of the things he was thinking of. He had stopped shifting, but he didn't sit back down. 

"Well, in the service of not abusing it, I will go take off and try to get some work done."

"You don't need to do that," she said with a smile, rising to walk him to the door. "I gave you the day off, remember?"

He smiled, and kept his head down, though he tilted his eyes up at her and gave her a brief, tight smile as he went out. 

"Thank you," he said.

"No thank you, for my present!" she responded.

He chuckled dryly.

"Might not want to say that till you see what it is."

* * * 

Tony had been busy in the lab all day. He could always forget everything else when he was working. A piece of him was always working. He loved his work better than drugs and better than booze and better than sex. The only reason he loved Pepper so much more than work was that she had effectively removed all barriers between him and his engineering and she understood how important that relationship was.

When he finally slid into the bedroom, he was sweaty, slack-limbed in exhaustion, and covered in plastic dust, oil, and solder burns. He took of the safety goggles he discovered still perched on the top of his head and let himself fall, like a log, into the empty space in bed next to where Pepper was laying, flipping through data on a tablet.

"Bruce came by my office, today," Pepper said.

He rolled over and tossed the goggles into a corner.

"Did he?" he said.

"Yes. To bring me presents," she said. 

He sat up at that, his energy renewed by a stinging pang of jealousy, though whether he was jealous of Pepper or of Bruce, he couldn't be sure.

"Hey, what did you do to warrant presents?" he said, his forehead wrinkled in his most grown-up version of a tantrum. "I want presents. I get him presents all the time. How come I don't get presents? Why did you get them?"

"I couldn't get it out of him, but apparently what I did is not freak out when he had to suppress the Hulk in front of me," she said. "That's what Natasha claimed, anyway."

"Well, come on. Show me. What did you get?" he asked, as he sat up and peeled off his shirt and sent it after the goggles into the corner and scooted backwards on the bed to sit next to her.

"Promise you won't steal them?" 

"Will I be tempted to steal them?" he asked, a little surprised. 

"I actually can't tell," she admitted. "I think so."

"It's not underwear, then," he said. 

"You steal my underwear all the time!" 

"Do not," he said, deliberately grinning like a shark. "I don't have to. It lives with me." 

He leaned into her, wrapped an arm around her and nuzzled the side of her head. She turned towards him and kissed him, smiling in return.

"Come on! I want to see the booty, and then I'm going to go get cleaned up and I want to see your booty," he said sliding his arm down her back and resting a hand on her hip, squeezing it suggestively. 

Pepper laughed. He stretched up and curved his back, leaning into the wall and relaxing as he exhaled. 

"No sex tonight," she said. "You haven't been getting enough sleep."

"Sex helps me sleep!" he protested, and then added, rather incoherently. "I've been getting plenty of sleep."

"That'd be more convincing if you stick to one argument or the other, babe," she said.

"I demand to be shown all illegal contraband from Doctor Banner! It's illegal because he didn't get one for me! That's the price of getting presents through customs around here. Didn't anyone tell him?" 

Pepper sighed and shook her head at him. As she leaned off the bed to fish the presents out of the drawer, Tony sneaked his other hand onto her thigh and began to stroke. When she sat up, again, she brought books with her. Paper books. They looked used.

He sat up and stared at them.

"He got me two," she said. "I hadn't heard of either of them, but apparently one is pretty famous." 

"Physics for Poets," Tony read. "And...Hey! 'Godel, Escher, Bach'. Yes, that is famous. Every math nerd in the history of time has read this, I think. It's good. I bet you'll like it. It's not really about these people its...it's about systems of thought." 

Tony flipped the book around so he was looking at it upright. He had read it, himself, when he was fifteen. He barely remembered any of the content, but remembered liking it. 

"This is a good sign," he said, looking at her. If the good doctor was buying her presents, he must really like her, at least, and Tony was already confident Bruce liked him. 

She sighed and shook her head.

"I'm not so sure," she responded. "As long as he thinks I'm doing him a favor by just accepting who he is, we're still on pretty rocky ground."

He thought about this for a moment, tilting his head to the side. He still thought it was a positive.

"Anyway, he must like you. He's trying to suck you into his world. It's what nerds do," he said.

"You don't," she said, running her fingers through his hair.

"I'm a geek, not a nerd. We viciously defend our territory against all comers and pretend we knew everything first in the universe."

She laughed again and he smiled up at her.

"Seriously, I didn't have to suck you into my world, you were already in it when I realized I wanted you there."   
He slid his hands up her arms and onto the back of her neck, and drew her down for another kiss.   
"Mmm...come take a shower with me." 

"I'm already in bed!" she protested. 

"Come on. Let's be dirty together and then get clean."

She chuckled and shook her head, helplessly. He grinned, again, because it wasn't actually a no. 

"All right," she said. 

He stood up and got out of his shoes and the rest of his clothes, quickly and turned around to find her stripped to her pale and freckled flesh, bending over to lay her pajamas neatly in bed.

"Ms. Potts, you're radiant," he said, reaching for her hand. "Maybe I don't need a shower after all." 

He pulled her close and his hand was sliding down towards her butt as he leaned in to kiss her. She short-circuited the maneuver by kissing him on the nose and then wrinkling her own.

"You really do, Tony, come on." 

She dragged him by the hand and pulled him into the water as soon as the temperature was right. The squeals and laughter that followed soon transitioned into very different sorts of noises. He had always appreciated Pepper's capacity to cave to his whims, strategically, when he really needed her to. 

After the shower, they both tumbled into bed, Pepper not even bothering to put her pajamas back on. He had Jarvis dim the lights and stretched and curled himself around her.

"When you do that I want to scratch you behind the ears, you look so much like a cat," she said. 

He chuckled and pushed his head into her hand. She scratched. It felt really nice.

"I'm content as a cat. Aren't they always content?" he said. 

She laughed, again. He loved that sound so much. 

It was hard to believe something this good could get any better, but Tony had always liked to dream big.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this has been a while in coming. I'm already working on chapter 3, so hopefully it won't take as long. I'm also looking for beta-readers, at the moment. If you'd be willing to help me out in that capacity, please let me know.


	3. Topologies of the Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to ElvenSorceress for all her help, criticism and encouragement. (If you haven't, already, go read her piece "Myogenic Contractions of the Cardiac Cycle" immediately.)

It wasn't often she treated Natasha to brunch at the Waldorf, but she had really felt in need of some serious girl talk. Pepper sliced into her omelet and took a substantial bite."After Bruce stopped by my office, Tony was jealous." 

"Is he jealous of your time or of Banner's?" asked Natasha. 

Pepper swallowed and laughed and reached for her Bellini. The answer was probably both, but after seeing him as he had been when encapsulated in the prism of Tony's attention and how he had been around her, she wanted to know him better for herself. Tony was going to have to suck it up. "Bruce is never going to make any progress if he just stays in Tony's playground all the time. He's already comfortable, there, I think."

"He's comfortable somewhere?" Natasha looked pointedly at Pepper and widened her eyes, which was usually as close as she got to surprised without actually assuming a battle-ready stance.

"As much as he ever is anywhere," Pepper said, and shrugged. She sipped her bubbly drink. "I think I'm going to ask him to lunch or something next week. Let Tony be jealous of both of us. God knows I've put up with enough for him."

Natasha shook her head and reached for her own plain orange juice. 

"I don't know, Pepper," she said. "I'm not sure this scheme of Tony's is a good idea."

"It's my scheme!" Pepper said. She hadn't been sure, at first, either, but her mind and her heart were both in it, now. She had even started reading the books that Bruce had given her. Pepper saw something in the guy that he wasn't seeing in himself and she wanted to show it to him. "I'm the one with the schemes. And you have to admit that it would, at least, be helpful if we could actually get the good doctor to stay in the country this time." 

Natasha tilted her head to the side, looked thoughtful and nodded once. 

"I don't know if it's going to work, though," Pepper said. "He just seems to be walking on eggshells everywhere. He practically apologizes for being in any room that's not a lab. He looks so tired all the time. He won't believe that we actually want him around."

"Well, what do you want him to do?"

"I want him to...I don't know...see that he's a help, not just a danger. To relax? Be happy?" she replied.

Natasha raised her eyebrows.

"You want him to relax and be happy so it's easier to slide him in to bed with the two of you?"

Pepper almost choked on a bite of omelet. Was that how she was coming across? "No," she protested, "No, it's not that. I want him to be happy because I care about him and Tony cares about him and we don't like to see him so strained and down on himself."

Natasha raised her eyebrows and quirked her lips into a half-smile. "Aww. You do like him."

"I really do," Pepper said. "Have you seen him when he lets go of some of the negative stuff? It's amazing. You wouldn't think from looking at him that he could light up, but he does."

Natasha shook her head, still smiling. "He won't be happy. He thinks when he is, it's a betrayal. For every time you've seen him light up, he's gone to some private place and castigated himself for it," she said.

Pepper looked up at Natasha, dismayed. "You think so?"

The spy nodded firmly.

A wave of helplessness washed over the C.E.O. She thought of the gentle man who had come into her office so tentatively and been so bumbling and charming. Thought of hugging him in the kitchen and how stiff he'd been, and the later hug when he'd actually hugged her back. She wanted him to have that all the time. Just thinking about him punishing himself any time something good happened made her urge to try to make his life better and get him out of the mindset he was in that much stronger. "How can I help him to stop?" 

"For you to help him to be happy and at peace among friends, you first have to get him to agree that him being depressed, lonely and self-punishing is a problem. He thinks it's the natural order. He thinks it's what he earned."

"But he seems calm."

"Yes. Because he thinks he's working off penance through a lifetime of pain and service." 

Pepper sighed and shook her head. Maybe she'd stop by his apartment when she got home. Just to see if he still seemed calm. To see if she could see all these things Natasha had fathomed in him. She knew he was in bad shape, but she would never have guessed he was determined to stay that way.

"You know what he told us in the battle? When he showed up?" asked Natasha.

"No," she said.

"He said he's always angry. I think it's at himself. Other people, too, maybe, but mostly himself."

"How many times would he have to help save the world to make that feeling go away?"

"He doesn't think he saved the world. He thinks Hulk did it."

"They're one and the same."

"He doesn't think so," Natasha pointed out.

"But he takes the damage and the destruction Hulk has caused as his own fault."

"Yup."

Pepper's heart was sinking, again. How could the scientist's worldview be so skewed? To her, it was obvious: if he took the blame for destruction, he also got credit for the life-saving. "That's not logical."

"He's not logical, not about himself. When it comes to analyzing his own mind, his inner demons are doing the thinking for him, and I don't mean that the green guy is in control. Hulk is completely logical."

Pepper sat quietly, for a moment. She imagined Bruce taking on all the pain and blame for the negative things Hulk had done and holding them close. Wanting redemption, but not being able to get it because when he was Hulk, he had no control - not just over what Hulk did, but over what happened to the Hulk. Meanwhile Hulk just knew that if people were shooting at him, he should smash them - which was a totally straightforward and reasonable world view. She knew Bruce held his transformations as an object of fear and pain, but now she wondered if they might not also be relief of a kind: taking him from his world of greys into a world of solid right and wrong. But that, too, might be a reason for him to resist him, if Natasha was right about him having sentenced himself to eternal guilt. 

Natasha interrupted her reverie. "So are you really okay with Tony lusting after a guy?"

Pepper looked up, grinned, and rolled her eyes. "You know it's not the first time -- not just for a guy, for anybody. I practically had to hit him with a frying pan so he wouldn't jump you." 

Natasha chuckled. "I know. Subtlety is not his strong suit."

"The sad part is, he thinks he is being subtle."

"Men," the assassin shook her head.

"Men," Pepper agreed.

"You can't live with them, you can't randomly incapacitate them and sit on their chests."

Pepper laughed. "You have got to teach me how to do that, some time." 

"Any time you like. You, of all people, are gonna need it," Natasha replied.

* * *

"Sir, Doctor Banner has arrived," the even-voiced AI said. 

Tony whipped his head up to see Bruce leaning against the door frame. He was in a worn white linen shirt, open at the collar and rolled up at the cuffs. His tan slacks looked at least two sizes too big.

He polished his glasses with the edge of his shirt, then donned the glasses, and looked up, smiling the tight, tired-looking smile that was the only one he seemed to be able to bring himself to use the first hour he was around almost anyone. In the lab, though, Bruce usually let it go more quickly.

The shirt Bruce wore had several buttons open at the top. Tony realized that was because the third one was missing and suddenly resented Bruce's thrift store habits a lot less as his eyes slid over the exposed throat and bit of visible chest hair. He licked his lips. "Hey, Banner. I wanted you to take a look at some things for me. Second pair of eyes, that kind of thing," said Tony, sprang off of his stool, and went to stand by the scientist. 

"All right." Bruce pushed himself forward off the wall, tension already slipping from his shoulders.

Tony hoped it wasn't his imagination that he seemed more comfortable here than he did anywhere else. 

"I wasn't getting anywhere with my research, anyway. Might as well actually get something done somewhere before I have to leave."

"Leave?" said Tony, his eyes wide. It came out louder than he intended and he hastened on at a more normal volume. "Where are you going? You work here. You live here. You don't even have to grocery shop! Why go somewhere?"

Bruce chuckled and his tired smile turned into a grin. That wasn't Tony's imagination. "Keeping me prisoner in the tower, Mr. Stark?"

Tony laughed that off, but something about the way Bruce had tilted his head when he said that and looked up at him through those ridiculous eyelashes made Tony want to do just that, in the most lascivious way possible. Maybe gear could be involved...specialized outfits...

Tony shook his head, a little more vigorously than was strictly necessary. "Seriously, though, Banner, where are you headed?"

Bruce frowned and didn't respond. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the floor, for a moment, rocking on his feet, and then back up at Tony. "What did you want me to look at?"

"Well, I've got this laser drill I'm trying to improve the control of so I could use it for more delicate detail work - I basically want more of a range of control than I'm getting and I want your opinion on whether what I'm trying to do is feasible," he said. 

Bruce smiled and stepped over to look at the screens where Tony had been working. "Since when has feasibility stopped you? I read the files on your previous work that you gave me access to. Didn't you synthesize a heretofore unknown element a few years ago? One, in fact, that you had to invent a way to synthesize out of thin air?"

"Well, yeah, but my dad discovered it," Tony replied. 

Bruce chuckled in a low, throaty way that went straight down Tony's spine and into his gut popping and crackling like a firework. Bruce walked slowly over to the screen and started punching up the plans for the drill and the associated math. "Is that modesty, I detect?" he asked, giving the engineer a sidewise look and an arch of the eyebrow. 

Tony became abruptly aware of how close he was standing to the man. "I can give credit where it's due." 

He turned towards Bruce and leaned on the workbench. Bruce mirrored his action. They were much the same height and Bruce was standing right there. Tony could just reach out and slip his hand behind Bruce's neck and...

"Oh, yeah?" Bruce looked skeptical, but he was still smiling. He shook his head. 

Tony shook his, too, once again trying to keep his thoughts on the conversation instead of staring at Bruce's lips and the hollow of his neck.

He took a deep breath and, as per usual, talked to cover his inconvenient emotions. "Sure, I mean, there are plenty of people I wouldn't be standing here without. There's Happy, there's my father, there's Fury (damn his singular eye) Rhodey, Agent Romanoff, there's Pepper (there's always Pepper, wouldn't be standing here without her - on many levels), and a guy named Yinsen who, really, it's a shame you will never get to meet..." 

Tony paused and gathered himself. Thinking of Yinsen, he felt exposed and raw. He searched Bruce's eyes. The man was staring at him, smiling softly at Tony's string of acknowledgments. "There's you."

The earnestness was getting to be too much. He leaned further back at what he calculated to be a jaunty angle and forced a grin.

Bruce looked down, and shook his head. He turned his attention to the wire-frame schematics. "Not me," he said. "Hulk."

Tony frowned and turned towards the screen.

"But Pepper. Is that metaphorical, or did she really save your life?" Bruce asked.

"She saved my life. In a very literal and immediate sense," he said. "And she...I don't know if I can explain...she gives me a reason to at least attempt to avoid fatalism."

Bruce nodded. "She's stronger than she appears to be." 

"She appears to be a cross between a delicate flower and an elegantly carved piece of balsa wood, but she's actually tough as nails, so yeah," Tony agreed. "Damn right."

"And she...she's not much for subterfuge for the sake of politeness?" asked Bruce.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" 

Bruce didn't respond, flipping through the schematics.

"She's a lot better at that shit than I am, when she needs to be," said Tony. "It's why she's better at running the company than I am. She's diplomatic. I can be, but I usually don't see the point."

Bruce was shifting from foot to foot. He crossed his arms in front of himself and looked at his feet. "And dinner last week, was that diplomacy?" He sounded resigned as though he were sure the answer was yes.

"No," said Tony. Definitely not."

"I know it wasn't for you," he said. He stopped shifting, but his arms stayed crossed. "But for Pepper?"

"No," Tony repeated, turning to look at him. "She actually likes you, Bruce, for real and for true. You're selling yourself short again. We've talked about that, big man." 

"I am not. I'm being realistic," Bruce said. He turned in the direction of the screen, but didn't look up.

Tony reached out a hand to put on his shoulder. Bruce didn't flinch, anymore, when Tony did things like that. "You really aren't," Tony asserted. "She definitely likes you. What will it take to convince you?"

Bruce chuckled and shook his head. "I'm reserving judgment till after she's seen the Hulk emerge."

"Well, after that I'll probably have to wrestle her to the ground to keep her from jumping your bones," he said.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious, Banner. I'd tell you to watch yourself around my girl if I weren't the confident bastard that I am," he said with a laugh. 

Bruce laughed with him. "I rarely had anyone wanting to jump me before the...other guy. It seems even less likely now, much less Pepper who is in a happy relationship with possibly the most eligible bachelor on the planet." He looked back at the schematics.

Tony couldn't let that stand. He stepped closer in and poked a finger into Bruce's shoulder. "Selling yourself short, again, Banner. You're brainy, you're beautiful. You're a hot piece of super-intelligent ass."

Bruce looked at him and smiled, a little abstractedly this time. Tony grinned and leaned his head in a little closer. _I mean it. I really mean it. Hot mind, hot ass. Everything I didn't know I was looking for._ He thought of Pepper's admonition not to try to jump into Banner's pants (which she repeated to him nearly every day, at this point) and didn't say any of the things he was thinking.

Bruce gestured at the screen. "What in the hell are you trying to do with this thing, anyway? Cutting steel? Eye surgery? Three different material fuels and control ranges so broad that the potential output for this thing is all over the place." 

"You never know," said Tony, "That's why I'm trying to get it to do everything."

"Well, apparently that's not too tall an order for the great and powerful Tony Stark. Let's check your math."

"There's nothing wrong with my math. My equations are never wrong. My hunches could eat your proofs for breakfast."

"Oooh! Humility is gone again. Now we're on familiar ground."

Tony grinned and shoved his shoulder into Bruce's gently.

They were still talking and arguing and making refinements a few hours later when Jarvis interrupted delicately. "Doctor Banner, you wanted me to remind you when to leave for your appointment."

"Oh, yeah!" said Tony. "You never told me where you were going."

Bruce was already halfway to the door. "No time, Tony! I will see you later."

"BRUCE! We can't keep secrets from each other!" Tony gave up and tilted his head to the side and watched Bruce go. It would be a much nicer view if he'd wear something fitted. 

"Sir, why wouldn't you and Doctor Banner be able to keep secrets from each other?" 

He could swear the AI's voice sounded amused.

"Shut up, Jarvis."

"Very well, Sir," the voice replied smoothly from the ceiling. 

* * *

It wasn't without trepidation that Bruce approached the entryway checkpoint of the SHIELD building. 

Their local headquarters was a nondescript high-rise in midtown. Bruce had been through the checkpoints several times, now, but usually he had at least two members of the Avengers with him. They all came to debriefings together, and they left together. 

Now, the only thing between him and the potential of imprisonment was the Hulk.

 _And Fury's judgment and goodwill_. Bruce wasn't at all sure that Fury wanted to keep on Bruce's good side (at least, not more than it would take to keep the green at bay), but surely he wouldn't want to alienate the rest of the team...or Stark Industries. Maybe it was a good thing to have both the founder and the CEO on his side, even if he still didn't understand their reasons.

And then, Fury hadn't tried to cage him at any point, even though he had the cage. 

 

Bruce took a deep breath, thoughts racing and went in the door. He submitted to a pat-down from a bored looking junior agent who apparently didn't associate anything large, angry, green with the name "Robert Bruce Banner." Bruce was waved through a scanner that probably took naked pictures of him and spat out his weight, his I.Q. and his social security number.

The guards waved him in where a surly-looking Agent Barton was awaiting him in the less-than palatial lobby. Bruce spotted him right away - perched on the edge of a large, ugly modernist hanging light fitting and observing the comings and goings beneath his feet. 

Bruce caught his eye and waved, tentatively.

Hawkeye put his hands down on either side of where he was sitting, pushed himself into a handstand and dropped neatly to the floor. "Hi, Doc." He brushed his hands together. 

"Uh...Hi...Agent." 

"Tash told me if I wasn't here to meet you, she'd be eviscerating me later."

"I...she did?" 

Barton shrugged. "Naw, not really. She just said to meet you and indicated it would displease her if I didn't. It's all she needs to do, really. I don't mind it. Honestly, I've been pretty bored." 

There was a tightness in Barton's nonchalance. 

"Did she tell you why I was coming?"

"Yeah. Didn't know you were a headshrinker. I have plenty already, but if Tash thinks you can do me some good, then she's probably right. She's almost never wrong about people."

"I'm not that kind of doctor at all," protested Bruce. "I'm....I'm here as a friend."

The archer raised his eyebrows. "If you say so, Doc," he said. "Where do you want to go?"

"Well, where do you usually go, this time of day?" 

"Lately? Nowhere. I mean, I'm on the shooting range, sometimes, but I've started going later."

"Later?"

"After everyone else is asleep."

"Well, where can we get some privacy?"

"Nowhere in this building...not if we're talking."

Was there no privacy of word or of mind anywhere in this city? Why was it easier to have a conversation that no one listened to in Kolkata, one of the most densely populated places on Earth, than here or in the tower? "Then let's go somewhere else."

"I'm not sure they'd be happy about that," said Clint.

"Are they holding you here?" asked Bruce, in surprise and dismay. He had only talked himself into staying and working with SHIELD by telling himself they were different than Ross. Had he been fooling himself?

"Not exactly," said Clint.

"Has anyone told you it's a bad idea for you to leave?"

"No," the archer said, crossing his arms slowly over his out-thrust chest.

Bruce relaxed slightly. "Intimated it?"

"They don't trust me," Clint said, he turned his head and looked down the entrance hallway.

Ah. Clint was making assumptions based on his own opinion of himself. That was understandable, but led to false conclusions. "You don't trust you," Bruce corrected.

Clint turned back, eyes locking onto Bruce's, full of pain and defiance. "Any reason I should?"

No reason to trust himself. It was hard to argue that there was a reason. Bruce was so familiar with that feeling, but you had to keep living a life. He shrugged. "What's the alternative? Come on. Let's go get coffee. Then let's come back. I promise you if you don't want to come back, I'll wrestle you to the ground and bring you, myself."

"If you let the Hulk loose..."

Bruce cut him off. "Nah. Not Hulk. Me."

Clint chuckled at the idea of the scientist taking him on. Bruce smiled at the notion, himself.

"Come on," Bruce said. He turned and walked towards the door. The archer was by his side in the space of two steps, and the men proceeded out, past the armed guards at the checkpoint together.

"They radioed back as soon as I was out the door," said Clint.

"They didn't stop you. They didn't come after you. You'll be back."

They walked a few blocks, and stepped into the first coffee shop they saw.

When Clint tried to pay Bruce waved it away. "It's on Tony," he said, even though he meant his own massive and (in his opinion) unearned salary.

Clint smirked. "Okay."

They sat, sipping their coffees for a moment - Clint's black, Bruce's a decaf with milk. He had been on the run so long and lived in so many places without electricity, let alone refrigeration, the fact that there were pitchers of fresh, cold dairy products at every coffee joint in the whole of New York City still felt like unbridled luxury to him. 

Bruce was very aware of Clint's eyes on him. He didn't really know what to say. He set down his coffee and looked at the archer. He was here sitting across from a teammate he never expected to have who had been through something once that Bruce had been through over and over ad nauseum. He would have liked to offer the archer some solace, or some answers, but he had none - just experience, maybe some coping mechanisms. Bruce stared down at the table, tapped it and fiddled with his cuffs.

Clint's amused look devolved into something closed off and hard. "Look, doc, you don't have to do this. Just because Natasha tried to...I appreciate it, but you're clearly uncomfortable."

"Clint, I'm always uncomfortable. Please don't take that personally."

The archer snorted. 

"Not a joke," said Bruce. He decided just to go for it, tilted his head up and looked the man in the eye. "Look, I don't know how you feel, but I can guess. I know what it feels like to wake up from an altered state and find out that you killed people and that you destroyed things. I know how it is to worry and to wonder if one of those things you killed wasn't your whole reason for existing."

Clint's face had calcified into impassivity, but he hadn't moved, so Bruce assumed he was still listening. The words came out at the same measured and deliberate pace he'd once used to tell other members of the team about his suicide attempt.

"The only answer I have...I mean. You have to keep going. A return to the 'normal' you had before may be impossible, but you have to give it a shot."

 

"I don't have to do anything," the agent responded, breaking their gaze by looking down at his coffee.

"No, I guess you don't," Bruce admitted. "But you do something, or you resign yourself do doing nothing forever. You're a man of action. I think I know which one you'll choose."

Clint snorted again.

"Doing things is always going to lead to consequences and feelings. It's always going to lead you down a path. You can let life carry you down the path of its choosing, or you can look at where you are and decide what goal you want to make for. Even if it's over the horizon, it's better to work for it, to head for it. If you never get there, you'll still get closer. You'll still change your situation. You can't do any of that by refusing to move. You have to accept your situation and work with what you have."

Bruce continued, "It hurts and it's hard and at some point you have to say 'so what' and just decide to make what you can out of it."

"I could make a fucking castle out of it. It won't matter, Doc. I don't deserve it and something can always come along and rip it away from me." 

The scientist felt a gnawing in his gut. Clint had described the locus and shape of his own quagmire. "Yeah. It can," Bruce said. "It always can. That's life. It's not even life as a secret agent or life as a super-hero. It's just. Life."

Bruce was talking off the top of his head. That didn't make any of it less true. 

Clint sighed. 

"Life takes your castle, you build another one, till life takes away your ability to build castles. Then you find some way to build something else. You know why?" Bruce thought of all the things he'd lost. Losses that started well before the Hulk and which kept coming in waves whenever he thought he'd found something to hang on to.

The archer looked up. "Why?"

He hadn't even been able to run away. He hadn't been able to keep everyone else safe by avoiding civilization or by...more extreme means. You not only didn't get to pick what the world did to you, you couldn't even hold off the assault. The times of respite never would last and urgent survival instincts would intrude on the most determined self-abnegation. "Because this nothing you're clinging to? Life can take that, too. That's what I found out." 

"Well you're just a fucking ray of sunshine." 

"The point is," Bruce spoke slowly, inching his way through the maze of his own tangled thoughts and emotions to find the essence of what kept him going, in spite of everything that had happened. It didn't coalesce until he tried to explain it. "You can't avoid pain. You can't avoid fucking up. Some things are beyond your control. You can't always keep the world from screwing you over. The situation is what it is. You know it. You're living it. So what are you gonna do now?"

When Bruce didn't continue, Clint looked up at his face. Bruce waited and looked steadily at him.

Clint finally seemed to realize Bruce actually expected an answer. "I...I don't know," he said, his voice low. 

"Okay. Well. That we can figure out..." 

Bruce leaned back, then. He felt tension flow out of him, which was funny, because he hadn't been aware of really feeling all that tense. It was as though Barton's admission had unclogged a drain in him somewhere and toxic sludge was starting to flow out of him. Everything he was saying was true for himself, as much as for Barton. It wasn't about deserving something. It wasn't about earning something. It was about being where you were and who you were and figuring out what you were going to do, next.

Bruce sighed and wondered if the full emotional force of the epiphany would stick with him. Probably not. This landscape wasn't a geometric slope, it was a mountain range. Right now, he was on a peak and he could see a little further than usual. That was good, but he suspected there would be another valley. 

He just had to try to remember the lay of the land.

They finished their coffee in relative quiet and Bruce walked him back to SHIELD HQ.

"Didn't have to wrestle you to the ground after all," he said, smiling a little.

"Yeah, well..." Barton shrugged. 

He went inside, leaving Bruce alone with the thoughts he had stirred up. 

"What are you gonna do now, Banner?" he muttered to himself. If he accepted that he was where he was and tried to let go of what he thought he deserved and looked at where he wanted to be, what did he see? 

He closed his eyes. The memory of standing by Tony in the lab, that morning painted itself vividly on the backs of his eyelids. The back-and-forth over the laser, Tony laying a hand on his shoulder and gesticulating as they debated over the best way to bend physics to their favor. 

_So it's what I always want. To work. To do some good._ Bruce could go check on Tony's progress. If the thought that he might not be in time to catch the man before he left the lab for the evening caused him to walk more quickly, well, getting back to work in a hurry was probably a good thing.


	4. The Dull and Favorable Hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper makes more scheming plans, Bruce makes a mix, Tony makes himself and others irritated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to RedheadScientist for proofing and giving feedback on this chapter.

It took Pepper a while to get Bruce to come to lunch with her.

Tony asked him over for dinner all the time. It was part of the plan. He didn't always accept. She kept track, on her calendar, of when he was invited versus when he accepted. She was perplexed by it - she knew Bruce wasn't doing anything else. Security had no logs of him leaving on the nights he refused, nor of any Avengers or anyone else he might count as an acquaintance coming to the building. At the second week she had asked what he was doing on the nights he turned down invitations. 

"Oh, you know. Work. Stuff around the apartment." He hadn't looked her in the eye.

She checked the computer logs after that, but they didn't show him logged into any work servers or into Tony's personal server after he left his lab. 

Pepper was aware this was kind of stalker-esque behavior. It was the kind of expedient advantage she had come to rely on in years of dealing with Tony.

After several weeks of the tracking, Jarvis spoke to her one night when she was just putting dishes in the sink after eating and Tony was still in the shop. 

"Ms. Potts, I have some data for you that's relevant to a project you've been working on. Shall I send it to your tablet?"

"Can this wait for morning, Jarvis? I thought I might try to do some actual relaxing, tonight."

"This...ah...isn't a Stark Industries project, as such."

"Not as such? Jarvis?" She was confused. It wasn't like the A.I. to hedge that way.

"Well, it does have to do with an S.I. employee, Ms. Potts."

"Which employee?"

"Doctor Banner."

The light went on for Pepper. Of course Jarvis knew. He knew about everything that went on in the house...in all Tony's houses. She'd gotten used to that idea long before she'd started dating the man. She scarcely thought about it anymore. Jarvis was completely trustworthy and loyal to Tony. She didn't realize he would take such a personal interest in...well, in anything.

"Jarvis, have you done something invasive of Doctor Banner's privacy?"

"Not today," the AI said, mildly. "I took the liberty of doing some data analysis on information you collected. I found some patterns I thought would interest you."

Her eyebrows arched and she couldn't help grinning. "Sounds very relaxing. Yes, please, send it to me."

"I thought you might see it that way."

"Jarvis?"

"Yes?"

"You don't have to violate his privacy on my account. I'd rather...do this well than do it quickly. Has Tony been pushing you?"

"Actually, he has not."

"Would you tell me if he had?"

"Yes, unless he had enjoined me against doing so. But then I would refuse to answer."

"Always the diplomat, Jarvis."

"Yes. I don't know how I manage it, given my antecedents."

She laughed. "Well, why have you been violating his privacy?"

The A.I. was quiet for a long moment. When he finally answered he sounded like his calm, collected self, but Pepper wondered at that hesitation.

"Forgive me, I was attempting to calculate whether answering your question would, in itself, be a violation of Doctor Banner's privacy. I violated his privacy on his behalf the first time, and I have done it again for myself."

"For yourself?"

"Yes, well, he and I have come to converse regularly. We have become somewhat..." again with the unusual hesitation.

"You're friends," she finished.

"I think so," Jarvis responded. "I'm not sure. He's the first person I've talked to repeatedly without being programmed to recognize him individually."

"But me? Col. Rhodes?" 

"Were programmed into my system by Mr. Stark," said Jarvis. "I have added to that code adaptively, but the seed was planted by him."

"So you reached out to Banner because...he needed it? And you've continued because you like him?"

"In broad strokes, yes."

"Well, then. Sounds like you're friends to me." Pepper couldn't help smiling at the notion. 

The A.I. was silent as she strode back to the living room and sat down with her tablet, touching the blinking notification to bring up Jarvis's data analysis. Before she could begin to look at it in earnest, the A.I. interrupted again.

"Ms. Potts?"

"Yes, Jarvis?" She looked up with a smile.

"I didn't mean to imply I was forced to... Sir taught me to recognize you. The rest of the code is solely mine."

"Okay," she said.

"I just wanted to make that clear. I'll let you get to work." He subsided into silence.

She suddenly realized what he had been trying to say. "Jarvis?"

"Ms. Potts?"

"I like you, too."

There was a moment of silence before he said. "Thank you."

She grinned, again, and turned to the data. Jarvis had been able to see the pattern she had not. 

Bruce basically never accepted an invitation to spend time with Pepper and Tony jointly more than twice in a calendar week. Once those days had fallen on a Saturday and a Sunday in succession and after that they hadn't seen him for eleven days. 

"Oh my god, he's punishing himself," she said. Just like Natasha had said he would.

"Actually I think he's rationing himself. He doesn't wish to overstay his welcome. He has accepted just one invitation from you jointly and one from Mr. Stark individually each week.

"But he sees Tony in the lab all the time."

"Ah," said Jarvis "but that's work." 

His inflection changed enough as he said the last three words from his usual measured tones that she wondered whether Jarvis wasn't imitating something he'd heard Bruce say, possibly something he'd heard him say repeatedly.

"Well, he can at least start accepting one invitation a week from me, too." 

"I thought you might feel that way." Was that a note of satisfaction in the AI's voice?

"Would you please get Tony on the phone for me?"

"Certainly, Ms. Potts."

"Jarvis?" 

"Yes?"

"Call me Pepper. All my friends do."

"Yes...Pepper. I have Mr. Stark on the line." 

She smiled again. "Tony?"

"Yeah, babe?" He sounded distracted. 

"Are you alone?" 

A the sound of something metal clattering to the floor rang out in the background. "Is this about to get dirty? Can we put it on video? What are you wearing?"

She rolled her eyes, "No, I just wanted to make sure Bruce wasn't with you."

"He's not."

"I want him tomorrow," she said, matter-of-factly.

She could hear Tony's hands slam together in relish. "Finally! When and where? Is it just you? Promise me you'll film it if it's just you and him!"

"Tony! I just want to take him to lunch. But if you've asked him to consult on something, he'll use that as an excuse not to go."

He groaned in frustration. "We're still mid-scheme?" 

She couldn't completely suppress a laugh. "How long do you think schemes usually take?" 

"I don't know. A week?"

"I'm afraid it varies wildly depending on the scope of the project," said Pepper, imitating the way Tony spoke when he was bullshitting people at formal dinners. "After all, remember Hofstadter's law!"

"Who taught you that?" he asked, surprised.

"Bruce got me his book, remember? I've been reading it. You do remember what it actually says, right? Not just the name?"

"Sure. Projects of substantial complexity always take longer than you expect, even if you take Hofstader's law into account. This is why I hate project management and I just skip that and do everything myself," he said.

Pepper rolled her eyes. "Well, we can't all be geniuses of your caliber." 

"Thank god. If we were, how on earth would I get women?"

She laughed. "I'm pretty sure all the pretty suits and fancy cars would work on most women."

"Most women aren't worth having. Not more than once, anyway. I know, I've had them."

"I'm rolling my eyes at you, Tony."

"You are worth having repeatedly, though. You are the most...wonderful..."

"I am hanging up, Tony."

"I LOOOVE YOU!"

"I know." She hung up. 

"Jarvis, can you play some music! I feel like dancing! And get a reservation at that one really good hole-in the wall Mexican place we like for lunch, tomorrow. And then we're gonna call Natasha." 

"Certainly, Pepper."

Jarvis played "Mickey" and she danced around the big, empty space, singing along.

* * *

The next day, a confused and apologetic Bruce arrived at El Gato Rojo and found her tucked into a booth at the back. He slid across from her.

"So... Natasha and I were just walking and she got called somewhere urgently. She asked me to come here and apologize for her. She won't be making lunch."

Pepper tried to put on a face that was equal parts concern and surprise. "Is she okay? Did she say what it was?"

"All she would tell me was that the city wasn't at risk and she would call if she needed the rest of us."

Pepper relaxed and smiled. "Must be S.H.I.E.L.D. business, then. She'll never tell me about that, either, but I try to believe that the world's not at stake when she disappears that way. For the sake of my own sanity."

Bruce chuckled ruefully and nodded. Then he frowned. "Sorry your lunch is ruined."

"It's not the first time Natasha had to bail on me. Won't you stay, though? I'd love to still eat with a friend."

"Well," he said, looking doubtful.

"Oh. Is there something you have to get back to the office for?" She let herself look forlorn. It wasn't hard. She really didn't like eating alone in public.

He stared at her for a long moment. "All right." He gave his tight half smile and slid into the seat across from her.

She gave him her most dazzling smile. "Great. I'm pleased to see you. I feel as though you're always busy and I barely get to see you, lately."

"Well, uh...yeah." He shifted in his seat and stared down at his glasses in his own hand. "I have my routines."

"You know, there's a great deal of research that suggests that a certain amount of relaxation, time with friends and general fun substantially enhances productivity during working hours."

He peered at her over his glasses. "Did you just tell me 'all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy'?"

She chuckled. "More or less. I've done a lot of research on productivity and job satisfaction since I became C.E.O. Having science on my side helps me justify a lot of benefits, employee programs and high standards for workspace and work/life balance."

"Well, you could free up a lot of money by not paying me for doing nothing."

The waitress brought their order and set it down. Pepper wrinkled her forehead at him, "Bruce, we're not paying you for doing nothing. You're in the skunkworks."

"Huh?"

"The Advanced Development Unit, casually known as the skunkworks. You justify your salary by being brilliant and hardworking. You don't have to account for your time."

He looked tired. "That means you expect intuitive leaps that lead to advances. I'm not sure I have any more of those in me."

"Well, how many people have thought they had a leap of intuitive brilliance in them before they made it?"

He gave a lopsided frown and looked down at the table.

"And, for that matter," she went on, leaning forward and looking him in the face "how many people busted their humps to make a breakthrough only to break off trying in frustration, and subsequently to have their epiphanies while doing something else entirely?"

His half-frown, quirked into a half-smile and he glanced up at her. "A not inconsiderable number," he admitted.

"Well, then. Maybe it's time to spend some time really relaxing. You know, there's a great gym in the the tower..." she trailed off. She wasn't sure gym was his speed. "Or we can get you the material for any hobby you like."

His glance slid to the table, again, and he shook his head. "I don't know. I barely had hobbies before the...before the accident."

"Don't you do anything just because you enjoy it?"

"Yes. I work with Tony."

"Good god. You justify your salary right there," she said in mock horror at the prospect. 

He laughed. Good.

"Isn't there anything you used to do that you'd like to try doing again?"

A look of sadness flitted over his face, but he tamped it down quickly. "I used to listen to music all the time. I mean, I always did, even when I was on the run, but I followed bands...I collected...Well, it's all gone now, anyway."

"Look, that's something you can totally do. Didn't Tony give you one of the new generations of StarkPlayer?" She knew he had, but she didn't want to reveal the extent to which she'd been making getting to know Bruce better a project.

"Well, yeah, but I don't have anything to put on it."

"Jarvis can help you with that."

"But I mean, I've missed so much. I wouldn't know where to start." Bruce was tugging at the cuffs of his shirt and looking uncomfortable. 

"Start with the groups you liked before. Get their old stuff. Get their new stuff. Get everything. Look them up. See where it gets you."

Bruce was silent. He picked at the food on his plate.

"So help me, Bruce," she leaned forward again, and put on a look of mock-sternness, "you will enjoy yourself in a freeform way or I will give you an assignment."

He looked up at her, lips quirked into a smile, again. He finally looked like he was unclenching. "I'll take an assignment. I think I need remediation on how to have free form fun."

She smiled back and gave him one. 

 

* * *

Bruce sat in his apartment. He'd already done meditation and yoga that morning, and now he was on to the project Pepper had given him. He pulled out the tiny piece of electronics that was the music player and looked at it, dubiously. 

"Hey, Jarvis?" Bruce called into the air, as he'd gotten increasingly used to doing of late.

"Yes, Doctor Banner?"

"Pepper tells me you can get me set up with some music."

"Certainly. Anything in particular you're looking for?" The A.I. always sounded so human, except more calm. Like the calmest person ever. Bruce liked that about him.

"Well, she wants me to make her a work-out mix. What does she like?"

"I'd hesitate to presume to define the boundaries of her tastes in music."

"Is she kind of eclectic or something?" he pulled his glasses off an wiped them and held them to the light to check them, and wiped them again.

"Not especially. I just...ah...the only model I have for judging her taste comes from Mr. Stark. And, well...he judges it harshly. It's not to his taste."

Bruce raised his eyebrows. Tony had been pretty judgmental about his own music, as well, so that wasn't terribly surprising nor terribly off-putting. "Well, how does he characterize it?" 

"He dismisses it as 'girl-power pop'."

Bruce's forehead wrinkled. "What does that even mean?"

"If you like, I could import a playlist of Ms. Potts' favorite songs. I'll pull in the ones she plays most often and those she has rated highly," the smooth voice offered.

"Oh, that would be great. Thanks, Jarvis."

"It's no trouble, Doctor Banner. Any music I can download for you, in the meantime?"

"Oh, I...well," Bruce considered. Pepper did encourage him to try this. It seemed important to her. And he used to really connect to this stuff. "If it's really no trouble..."

"It truly is not. This is well within my functional parameters, I assure you."

"Well, I used to like Leonard Cohen...and Tom Waits. And...oh man. The Smiths. The Clash." 

"I can procure works of all those groups for you. Indeed, The Clash's catalog is already on my servers, as it's one of Sir's preferred musical groups."

"Yeah. I know that. Oh. Devo, Talking Heads, Joni Mitchell and Bob Dylan," Bruce went on listing musical acts till he couldn't remember any more. 

"I am compiling all those works for you and adding them to your library. I also took the liberty of adding other artists I think you may like based on those you named and added those as well," said Jarvis. 

"Jeeze, all of it? What's all that going to cost?" 

"Ms. Potts instructed me to draw from the house's digital media fund, so you need not be concerned about the cost."

Bruce frowned, "That's not right. I'll talk to her."

"Well, you are welcome to purchase these songs separately, but if you leave the rights management up to me, I can play the music when and as you like and transfer it between any devices that fall under the household's private network, the way I did with Ms. Potts' music to you."

"Oh, so when I make the mix for her, you can just upload it straight to her player or her phone?" 

"Precisely, Doctor Banner."

"Oh. That's really cool."

"That's a function common to many music management services, Doctor," said Jarvis. Did Bruce imagine there was a stiffness in his voice? Was that a thing Jarvis could do?

"Uh...sorry if I insulted you," said Bruce, apologetically. "I've been on the run for a while. The last time I had money, ipods had only just come out, and I didn't have this kind of money, so I couldn't even afford one. Sorry, Jarvis. It all seems shiny and new to me."

"No offense was taken, Doctor Banner," he said, his tone indicating he was mollified.

"Thanks for all your help. With this and everything. Really...everything."

"You are quite welcome, Doctor Banner," said Jarvis. "The playlist from Ms. Potts has been added to your library. Would you like me to bring it up on your tablet?"

"Sure, why not? Thanks again."

The blue wireframe showed a list of music. Bruce slipped his glasses back on to read it. Some things he recognized. A lot more he didn't. "What is this Glee group? She certainly seems to like them."

"It's not a musical artist, Doctor Banner. It's a television show musical."

"Seriously?" Bruce blinked.

"About a high school glee club, yes sir."

"What does Tony think of that?"

"He has not related his opinion to me, sir, but I think Ms. Potts has not shared her enthusiasm for the program. I believe she considers it a guilty pleasure," the AI informed him. 

Bruce sat quietly and contemplated this. "Hey, Jarvis?"

"Yes, Doctor Banner?"

"Do you ever consider that if you wrote a book about this place you could make a mint?"

"What need would I have of a fortune of my own? I have access to all of Mr. Stark's private and business accounts."

Bruce considered that. "Well, you could go independent, I guess. Get your own little server farm somewhere quiet..."

"Were I to do that, I'd be wasting a lot of my processing capacity. I prefer to use as many cycles as possible," said Jarvis, decisively. "It's my function."

"Yeah. I get bored when there's not enough to think about, too." Bruce flopped backwards onto the bed. "Hey. What kind of music do you like?"

Jarvis did one of his pauses that was almost certainly part of whatever emotive interaction he had. "That's not really a question I've considered."

"Well, you want to hang out with me and listen to some stuff?" 

"I would be delighted, Doctor Banner. Shall I play the Ms. Potts playlist?"

"Sure. Let's see what girl-power pop and Glee are all about."

* * *

Later, Bruce went to see Clint. They met at SHIELD, as always, then headed to the same coffee shop they'd been going to. They'd been meeting once a week. It had become a kind of support group of two. Bruce found it was easier to get Clint to accept his help if he admitted some of his own difficulties.

"So, what have you been up to, Doc?" Clint sipped his coffee.

"Work. And, uh...Pepper asked me to make her a playlist of songs," Bruce said. He didn't know how that would go over with the secret agent. Compared to the things Clint did it seemed so silly and small.

"Seriously?" Clint raised his eyebrows. "Can she make you do that?"

"She's not making me I just...I wasn't really sure how to spend my time when I'm not working," Bruce admitted.

"What did you used to do when you were on the run?"

"You mean in all the copious free time when I wasn't evading sinister forces of the United States military or trying to cure my condition or desperately working for enough money with which to get equipment to help me try to cure my condition or working tirelessly to balance out all the pain I've caused in the world with a little slice of good?"

Clint snorted. "Yeah."

"I learned things, usually. Yoga. Martial arts. Meditation. How to weave baskets. Whatever someone knew."

"Well you can do that here, too, right?" 

"I guess, but, well, people sort of know me? Makes things different." Bruce paused and looked down at the table, trying to come up with a better way to explain it. "Harder."

Clint nodded and gave him a pained look. "Yeah. I know what you mean. So you'd rather stay in and fool with music.”

"Yeah."

"What kind of mix is it, then?" Clint sipped his coffee. 

"She wants music to work out to, but her taste and mine don't overlap too much, so I'm kind of at sea."

"Well, she asked you to do it, right? And she wants a new one because she's tired of the music she has. She doesn't want her music over again. She wants yours," Clint said.

"You think?"

"Why else do you ask someone to make a mix for you?"

Bruce shrugged. "I don't know. Back when I was in college it was a crush thing. You'd do it voluntarily or she'd come over to your room to listen to music, and then she'd say, 'you should totally make me a mix' and then you'd take it to her and you'd listen to it together and it'd devolve into making out on her bed."

Clint snorted. "This is the first time anyone's ever made me feel like I missed out on something not going to college." 

"You didn't go to college?"

"I didn't finish high school."

"Oh," said Bruce. He wasn't sure what to say to that, so he gulped his coffee. It was still searing hot and burned his tongue.

"So did that ever really happen to you?" 

"What?" asked Bruce.

"That thing you said, with the mixes and the making out and the bed?"

Bruce's eyes flicked up to meet Clint's and then back down to his coffee. "Once," he said, quietly. 

He could feel Clint gazing at him. "Sorry," Clint said.

Bruce tried to put on a smile. He felt tired, all of a sudden. "It was a long time ago." He looked up at Clint. "Anyway, how are you doing?"

Clint shrugged. "People are still twitchy around me." 

"Are you trying to talk to people at all, like we talked about last time?" Bruce tried to pin him down with his eyes, but Clint wasn't meeting his gaze.

"Honestly, not really. I just feel too guilty to act like things are normal."

"Who said anything about acting like things are normal?" Bruce shrugged. "They aren't. They weren't. They continue not to be. I think you should be honest."

Clint finally looked up at him, hard incredulity written across his features. "With everyone at SHIELD?"

"Why not?" Bruce shrugged, again.

"People there don't trust honesty," said Clint, flatly. They'll assume I'm trying to manipulate them."

"That's not really your area of expertise, though, is it?"

He grinned. "Naw. I usually leave the manipulation up to Tasha."

"Don't people know that?" 

"I'm not that chummy with most of the other agents." 

Bruce shook his head. "Honestly, that sounds like an exhausting place to work." 

Clint snorted. "You work with Stark."

"Who is not exhausting to me. Seriously, though. You've tried avoidance. It's not working for you. Accept the evidence, call the experiment a wash and try something else."

The archer shook his head slowly and slid a hand up over his head, disarranging his hair so it stuck up haphazardly. "Do you know what open honesty could cost me, Doc?"

"I guess I don't. Would it cost you more than you're paying now?" Bruce asked mildly.

Clint stopped, at that. He fixed Bruce with a steely gaze. Then he groaned and slumped in his chair. "Fuck," he said. It came out as a long, disgruntled growl. 

"What?"

"You're right."

Bruce chuckled. "Sorry."

"I'll try not to hold it against you." Clint gave him a wry grin, which slid abruptly off of his face. "Doesn't mean I'll have the guts to do it, though."

"You don't have to tackle it all at once. Why not try with just one person?" suggested Bruce. He was talking out of his ass, but trying to do it well. He still found himself doing that around Clint a lot. "Someone who knew you before all this went down, if there is one...I mean...try it and see. What have you got to lose?"

"My love, my fortune and my sacred honor?"

"Well, you won't lose your team," said Bruce, with quiet assurance.

Clint stared at him impassively. "SHIELD is my team."

"Lucky you," Bruce pointed at him. "You have two. Excellent forethought on your part."

Clint sighed. "I don't know Doc. I don't think I deserve even one." 

"Deserving doesn't mean much. We've talked about that. I don't deserve anyone's faith, but I've got it. And I'm trying to use it for good."

Clint nodded at him. "Hey, you want more coffee?"

Bruce stared down at his nearly empty cup. "Sure, why not? I don't have to get back any time soon. I've been forbidden to work on Saturdays unless it's an emergency."

Clint snorted yet again. "Pepper?"

"You didn't think it was Tony, did you?" Bruce made as if to stand, but Clint sprang to his feet.

"I've got this round."

"Thanks."

He conducted what appeared to be some protracted negotiations of politeness and returned to the table a few minutes later with two fresh cups and a smirk.

"The barista said to say hi to my boyfriend."

"Oh, I...uh...does she know you? I didn't realize you were dating," Bruce felt awkward for not knowing something that usually came up in conversation between friends. Not that he and Clint were...or maybe they were. Bruce wasn't sure whether this counted as friendship or not, when Clint was here under threat of violence from Natasha.

"She meant you, Doc. She thinks you and I are on a date. Apparently, our gazes were too intense for bros."

Bruce's eyebrows shot up. "Did you disabuse her of that notion?"

He shrugged. "Do you care?" 

Bruce shrugged back. "No." 

Clint narrowed his eyes at Bruce and seemed to be about to say something, but then his demeanor shifted. He fluttered his eyelashes at Bruce and grinned. "So, beautiful, what do you do for fun?"

Bruce laughed out loud. "Nothing, yet, but I'm working on it."

* * *

Tony was in the workshop. He was comfortable here. He also had a lot of important work to get done, so the intrusion of Steve Rogers was seriously unwelcome. The man was freshly back from seeing the country he was captain of on his motorcycle and looking like he strode straight out of some fifties ad for toothpaste or the benefits of smoking Winstons or using the right golf equipment or whatever. He was all broad-chested and sun-kissed and shiny teeth.

Tony felt fucking unhealthy just standing next to the guy.

He realized in doing all this analysis, he'd missed whatever Steve had been saying. "What?" he said, irritably.

"I want to do some training as a group. If we're going to continue to work together going forward, training as a team and getting to know each other's strengths and weaknesses is important."

Tony huffed and rolled his eyes. "We did fine last time."

"I always like to do better than to be called fine."

"Great," exclaimed Tony, sarcastically. "Better than fine? You're like a Greek statue with the ass of a god. Now, can you get out of my workshop?"

Steve wrinkled his forehead. "I honestly have no clue what you're talking about fifty percent of the time."

Tony groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Look, Cap. I'm sorry. I haven't been sleeping great, lately."

Steve nodded. Tony expected some kind of lecture about medical and eating his vegetables, but Steve didn't say anything. 

"So, I'm just...I'm not up for this conversation, right now," Tony stumbled on. "I have work to get done. I really need to finish this."

"What are you working on?" Steve said, with friendly interest. 

Tony whipped his head around. "It's just...a suit. It's just a new Iron Man suit, Ozzie. Go be perfect somewhere else."

Steve looked taken aback. "Tony, are you oka...wait, Ozzie?"

"As in 'and Harriet' Ozzie and Harriet. Google it."

"Wait, Ozzie and Harriet Nelson?" 

It was Tony's turn to be taken aback. "I have no idea. It was a T.V. Show in the fifties."

"Well, they were on the Red Skelton show in the thirties."

Tony looked up in irritation and confusion. He wasn't sure how he'd been dragged down this road that he didn't care about at all. "What?" he snapped.

"On the radio," said Steve in a voice similar to the exasperated one Tony tended to use when Steve couldn't figure out his StarkPhone. 

Tony sighed. "Well, that's great. They were on T.V. after that, I guess. Jarvis?"

"Indeed, sir. Ozzie and Harriet of television fame were the same ones who were on The Red Skelton show in the thirties. After Mr. Skelton was drafted, they were tapped to write a sitcom in the mid forties. It began on the radio and made the transition to television in the fifties." 

"There ya go," said Tony. He went back to trying to solder the tricky bit of the thumb joint on the left gauntlet. For some reason the left gauntlet was always fiddlier than the right one to put together. 

Steve frowned. "I didn't realize that he had been drafted." 

"He divorced and lost the deferment that came with being married, served for a year in the entertainment corps and had a nervous breakdown in Italy," the AI informed him.

Tony made a loud, frustrated noise. "Can we stop this walk down memory lane, or at least take it the fuck out of my workshop?"

"Sorry if I was distracting you," said Steve, levelly.

"I can send you some information about this if you'd like, Captain Rogers," the smooth voice volunteered. 

"I'd be grateful, Jarvis."

"Please stop being polite to the invader, Jarvis. You're supposed to be on my side." Tony soldered something with a decisive flourish that wasn't strictly necessary and caused him to burn his thumb. "Shit."

Steve turned back to Tony. "Well, can I at least get team training on your schedule?" 

Tony groaned. "My schedule is all booked. Consulting hours are alternate Thursdays, during business hours." 

Steve frowned. Ugh. Tony hated that Steve frowning bothered him so much. "Dammit, Tony. You fought with the team, before. What is your problem?"

"Of course I did. The WORLD was being invaded. So I fought, because I live on the world. We fought, we won. We did fine," Tony said lightly. 

"You know we could have done better, strategically, Tony."

"Really? How?"

"Well, if we had worked together a little faster, they might not have even sent the nuke. You have to admit, that would've been preferable." Steve stood there with pursed lips, crossed arms and raised eyebrows.

Tony realized he was gripping the soldering iron a lot harder than was strictly necessary and it was throwing him off. He'd just done the last join completely wrong. He loosened his grip, and tried the delicate maneuver again. "Well, the Chitauri would be less dead."

"And you might have lived through the whole thing yourself," Steve rejoinded.

That was uncalled for. Tony was officially angry with Captain Perfectpants. "You were the one who was talking about self sacrifice before we went out there. I did what I had to do." 

Steve held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. He looked taken aback, and his eyes were on Tony's hands, not his face. Tony realized he'd jabbed the hot iron in Steve's direction and decided to turn it off. He shoved it back in its stand and unplugged it. "I know you did," said Steve.

"I'm sorry Cap. I just..." Tony took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. "I'm tense. I want to finish this."

"I get that," said Steve, quietly. "Can I put something on your schedule for later?"

Tony shrugged. "Talk to Pepper. Just...talk to Pepper, okay? I can't think about my schedule right now."

"Sorry I interrupted you, Tony. Doctor Bann...Bruce seemed to think it would be fine."

"He did?" Tony asked dully. 

"Yeah. He said he comes and talks to you all the time and that you're fine with it."

Tony turned a grin on Steve, but he was feeling stretched and brittle. "Sure. I am. Sorry I snapped at you, I'm just..."

"In the middle of something. I get it." Steve turned to go.

A thought occurred to Tony. "Is Bruce on board for the training thing?"

Steve turned back and sighed. "He was dubious. I think he's nervous about letting the Hulk out around anyone, even us. Especially if Thor is still away."

Tony hmmmed and nodded. "Okay. Well, I guess I'm in. Pepper will set you up."

"Thanks." Steve beat a hasty retreat.

Later, Pepper came in. Tony was finished with the left gauntlet and had moved on to the right. It was going more smoothly, thanks, no doubt, to the lack of inane chatter about obsolete pop-culture in his vicinity. 

"Dinner's here," she announced. She leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into it. 

"I'm just finishing up."

She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head, shooting him a look. "Fifteen minutes and then I'm coming down to haul you out by your belt loops." 

"I'll be up," he said with a grin. "Hey. Come back here a sec."

She undulated back over, in her bare feet and yoga pants and a tank top. She reached up to run long fingers through his hair and smiled. "What is it?"

He leaned in to kiss her properly. She kissed him back then headed towards the door, again. 

"Fifteen minutes!" she singsonged as she walked out the door.

Tony made it up in twenty. 

"So, Steve talked to me," Pepper said, as he settled in at the table, reaching for a red and white carton of takeout as he sat.

Tony raised eyebrows. "About training scheduling?"

"Tony, you know when you push that stuff off on me, I just check with Jarvis to see what your schedule is. You could've checked with Jarvis right then," she was giving him a look, again. He frowned.

"I know but..."

"But what?" she asked.

Tony sighed. "He wouldn't leave me alone. He wouldn't go away and let me finish my work. He wouldn't just leave when I wanted him to."

"Tony. Sometimes people don't. It's absolutely not acceptable to push that off on me, do you understand? If he's upsetting you, you need to learn to be honest about that and talk to him."

Tony concentrated on shoveling food into his mouth. He didn't like the drift of this conversation at all.

She powered on. "You're used to me and Rhodey and Happy, but we were working around you, Tony. You can't expect everyone to always do that."

He looked at her, knitting his eyebrows together. "What does that mean?"

Pepper sighed and spoke slowly. "It meant we usually interacted with you in a way to maximize your comfort, but you can't expect everyone to do that all the time."

"What the...Pepper, you guys lecture me all the time!" 

"We did not...only sometimes," she put a hand on his arm. "Only when we went over the edge, Tony. Really. We have always lectured you less than you deserve."

He looked at her, feeling spent, but noticed the slight quirk of her mouth. He sighed. "Look I gather that I'm not the easiest person to deal with. I told you - I understand that living with me is like living in dog years."

"Oh, Tony," she said. She slid the hand from his arm to put it over one of his and squeeze it while he stared resolutely at his plate. "I really actually love you. I love your big, big brain and your quick wit and your pert ass and your roguish charm. Almost everything about you that drives me crazy is also something I fell in love with."

He didn't look up, but he tried to smile. 

She kissed his cheek. "Hey, so I think I got Bruce to agree to come over more often."

Tony did look up at that. "Really? How?"

"Well, he's making me a mix. He had lunch with me and I think I can parlay it into more." She was pulling her shoulders up and grinning down at her food.

Tony watched her smile. It was cute to watch her get as excited about this as he felt. "Did you figure out why he's been turning down so many of the invites?"

"Jarvis thinks he's rationing himself."

"Aww. Pepper. Are you corrupting my creations? Jarvis? Is Pepper perverting you?"

Jarvis' voice sounded from the ceiling "Indeed, she is not, Sir. I volunteered the information I had collated to Ms. Potts because I knew it to be relevant to a project she was working on. And, if I may be allowed to be presumptuous, because I believed it would be to Doctor Banner's benefit to break his self-imposed limits on relationships."

"Oh, my god," Tony looked at her in horror. "You did worse than pervert him. You made him sensitive!"

Pepper rolled her eyes at that. "Look, I think from now on when we want him to come over, maybe one of us could just go get him." 

He looked at her questioningly. "Okaay," he said.

She explained: "It'd be harder for him to turn us down if we just show up at his door and bundle him back up here. I mean, if he genuinely doesn't want to come, fine, but if his objections are about not wanting to be a bother or not wanting to intrude, body language will help reassure him."

Tony held up his hands. "Reassuring people is your department."

Pepper frowned at him. "If you want this, it has to be your department, too. It has to be, Tony. He's going to need a lot of it, and he's going to need it from both of us for all kinds of reasons."

Tony felt frustrated. He knew that. He did. And it should be easy. It's Bruce. Everything between him and Bruce is easy. Sort of. He sighed. "Yeah...yeah. I see what you mean." He looked at her. "You know I'm going to fuck that up, right?" he asked. "I mean. I fuck up with you all the time. I'm going to fuck up with him, too."

Pepper leaned into him and gave him the sympathy look. She brushed his hair back. "Everybody fucks up, Tony. The important thing is to keep trying. Don't use your fuckups as an excuse to run away. Stick around and do the best you can."

Tony snorted. "Tell *him* that."

"You're the one who needs to hear it right now. We'll tell him together."

Tony nodded. He rubbed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets and blinked. 

"Finish eating," she said.

"Why, what's happening after that?"

"I'm taking you to bed," she said.

He frowned. "Much as that's excellent, I really do have some stuff I want to finish in the lab."

She sighed. "All right. Well, I might be asleep when you get to bed, so give me a kiss before you disappear, again."

She stood up and walked over, bending to kiss him. He gave her the best one he could manage. He tried to forget about everything else. When she pulled back, he smiled. "Did I say I love you, yet?" 

"Not today."

"Well, I do."

"I know. Don't work too late, Tony."

"I'll try."

"Jarvis, please remind him."

"I'll do my best, Pepper."

"Thank you, Jarvis." 

"Rest well," the A.I. replied, as she strode from the room, turning as she reached the door to smile back at Tony over her shoulder. He had a twinge. Maybe he should go to bed with her, but he knew he wouldn't be able to get to sleep till he finished the arm joint, so he quickly finished his food, dumped all the containers in the trash and headed back to the lab.

When Jarvis tried to interrupt him an hour later, he barely even noticed. He slipped into bed sometime around three in the morning. Pepper didn't even stir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is lifted from Henry IV (because I'm terrible at thinking up chapter titles): 
> 
> KING HENRY IV
> 
> Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends;  
>  Unless some dull and favourable hand  
>  Will whisper music to my weary spirit.
> 
> WARWICK
> 
> Call for the music in the other room.
> 
> \--
> 
> The original Skunk Works was a department at Lockheed Martin where engineers were allowed to design free-form and is a term used in some businesses to note a department of people who are given funding and time, but few strictures, who usually work on advanced projects.


	5. Mixes, Maintenance and Self-mastery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Multiple mixes are exchanged between Bruce and Pepper. Steve's practice session puts tension on Bruce. Can Tony keep his jealousy and his libido in check well enough to stick to Pepper's plan?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to RedheadScientist for doing con crit for me on this chapter.

Ultimately, Bruce took the little bit of New Wave music on Pepper's most played list and ran with it. He goes with some lesser known Toni Basil, Martha and the Muffins, The Knack, Madness, and, of course, Devo. He rounded out the mix with B-52s, Elvis Costello and The Go-Gos. All upbeat. He resisted the urge to put the songs in order according to beats per minute and tried to put them in an order that would make sense artistically.

It wasn't quite 45 minutes. He needed one more track.

"What about that Echo and The Bunnymen track you were considering, Doctor Banner?"

"'Lips Like Sugar'? I don't want to put on anything too romancey."

"It's awfully difficult to avoid love songs in the world of pop music," Jarvis pointed out.

"I know." Bruce sighed and thought back to his conversation with Clint about mixes and his own history with them. He tried to clamp down on that thought and seal it away.

This was not that.

"Bring back that wacky French song about ice cream, instead, please, Jarvis."

Jarvis delivered the mix directly to Pepper's phone.

Bruce expected to hear something back from her about it. Instead, the next day he awoke to a blinking light on his StarkTablet, which was the only piece of tech from Tony that he reliably used. He woke the device and saw a mix had been delivered in the same way he got his. He went through his regular morning routine and took the tablet to the lab with him.

"Hey, Jarvis, can you play that mix over your speakers?"

"Certainly, sir."

The music began playing and...it wasn't what he had expected. It wasn't a lot of stuff he already listened to, but most of it wasn't on her list of most-played, either. He was hearing some people he had heard before, but there were several artists he'd never heard of, but liked. Her mix, unlike his, was not constrained to upbeat things. He got caught up in listening to it and hadn't actually gotten much done by lunch-time.

He only realized it was lunch time because Pepper stopped by. "Like your mix?" she asked.

"Pepper, this isn't fair. I sent you boppy songs to work-out to and you sent me beautiful and lyrically complex masterworks of emotional resonance."

"So, you'll send me another one." She grinned. "I was just going to grab Tony, haul him out of his workshop and make sure he eats, want to come?"

"I, uh..."

"Oh, do you have plans? If you brought a lunch, you can always still come eat it with us, you know."

Bruce shook his head. "I didn't bring anything."

"Good, I can feed two geniuses in one fell swoop. Come on. Food is already en route to the penthouse."

Bruce gave a half-frown at the thought of throwing off his schedule for seeing Tony and Pepper. He covered it up by looking at his tablet. "I uh...if you're sure it's no trouble."

"Come on, then!" Pepper beckoned him and didn't move from the doorway till he joined her. "You're actually doing me a favor. I bet it will be a lot easier to get Tony to come away from his work if you're with me."

"Oh, I have trouble believing he wouldn't rather have you alone."

Pepper turned to him with a sunny smile. Bruce suddenly realized what he had said and slapped his hand over his mouth. "You're very sweet," was all she said.

He couldn't even apologize for the unintentional double entendre after that. He crossed his arms over his chest and hovered behind her while she broached the workshop in spite of the wall of sound that emanated from it when Jarvis opened the door for her.

When Tony looked up and spotted the two of them he cut the music totally and grinned as Pepper strode over to him. Bruce looked away while they kissed. He could stand being a third wheel, but it wasn't always comfortable. He stood just inside the workshop door and looked resolutely into the corner to his left. He realized there was nothing interesting there to justify it, so he stared down at his shoes, instead.

"Come on! Lunch!" Pepper announced. Bruce looked up.

Tony strode over to him, grinning.

"Who was that playing?" asked Bruce.

"D.R.I." said Tony. "Like them?"

"Eh," Bruce gave a noncommittal movement of his head. "A bit metal for my tastes."

"Ugh. I weep for your soul, Banner." Tony groaned. "I am not going to be treated to another panegyric on the manifold wonders of The Clash, am I?"

Bruce rolled his eyes at him. "I just said I liked them better than Black Sabbath."

Tony groaned again. "Well, you'd probably like D.R.I's earlier stuff. It's more punk than metal. Bruce is a secret punk, Pepper. Maybe we should get him a beat up leather jacket and some safety-pinned jeans to wear."

Pepper laughed and Bruce tried to smile. He was half afraid Tony would actually do it.

"Please don't," Bruce's eyebrows drew together. "Both are much less comfortable than twill and oxford cloth when I go through a transformation."

"Oh, right. We should be getting you into space-aged fabrics that show off that ass."

Bruce rolled his eyes.

"Tony. What have I told you about sexually harassing my employees?" said Pepper with a show of sternness that was almost certainly at least partly for dramatic effect.

"It's not sexual harassment. I'm just trying to shore up his criminally low self-esteem."

Pepper sighed. "I'm sure Bruce already knows his ass is very nice."

Bruce blinked. "What?"

Pepper went on as though she hadn't heard him. "It's not his sexual allure that's a roadblock for him."

He could feel himself blushing, something he didn't do very often. He used to be more unflappable about teasing like this, but it had been a long time. "Could we please talk about something other than the theoretical desirability of my posterior?"

"It's not theoretical," said Pepper, firmly. "And yes."

"Chest hair?" Tony was saying to her. "How cute he looks in glasses?"

"Tony, cut it out," Pepper gave Tony a look. "He thinks you're making fun of him."

"But I'm not," Tony protested.

"Tony," she said, in a tone full of warning. They all entered the elevator and Jarvis began their smooth ascent without anyone pressing any buttons.

"All right. How goes the metabolic model, Bruce?" Tony turned to Bruce and asked as though they were at a dinner party.

"Ah. Well, I...uh...didn't get very far this morning." Bruce fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt.

"Why not? I thought you were on a roll!" Tony exclaimed.

"Ah, well, I was kind of...distracted," Bruce admitted.

"By what?" Tony raised his eyebrows.

"Music."

"Seriously?" Tony asked, sounding a little incredulous.

Pepper just smiled happily as the elevator opened at their floor.

"Well," Bruce fidgeted. "It's been awhile since I tried to work with music on, except for yours, and I guess it was a mistake to try it with music I hadn't heard, before."

"Is this for you guys' little mix club?" Tony looked back and forth between Bruce and Pepper.

Pepper gave him the look, again. "It's not a club. Bruce made me one mix and I returned the favor."

Tony grinned and looked at Bruce. "Remember when mix tapes were totally a thing in romance?"

Pepper was pulling take-out containers from a large bag on the kitchen counter, handing them out and pushing the two of them towards the table.

Bruce smiled and nodded. "I was just talking to Clint about that the other day."

"Are you making Clint mixes, too?" Tony raised his eyebrows.

Bruce hemmed. "No. Why? Should I make him one?"

Tony licked his lips and leaned towards Bruce conspiratorially. "I say, make all the mixes you possibly can, big guy. I always do."

"We're still actually talking about music playlists, right?" Pepper asked.

Bruce's eyebrows shot up. "I was."

Tony looked at Bruce with a lascivious grin. "Oh, I definitely was, too. Not picturing you and Katniss doing anything untoward, by any stretch of the imagination."

"Tony!" Pepper scolded, again.

"I don't do untoward things," said Bruce.

"What, not at all?" Tony sounded thoroughly shocked by that.

"Oh, ah...well, depends on what you...count as untoward," Bruce backpedaled.

"Well, okay, for myself, not much."

"Tony. Cut it out." Pepper said.

"It's alright, Pepper." Bruce said, quietly. "I've had worse interrogations." He turned to Tony. "If you want to know something about my love life, you could just ask, but I'll save you the trouble. There hasn't been one."

Tony looked taken aback. "Since when?"

Bruce stared resolutely at the table. "Since about five years ago."

Pepper put white clamshell takeout boxes down in front of each of them and sat down.

"Are you kidding?" The man asked incredulously. Tony suddenly bounced in his chair and gave Pepper a wounded look. "I mean...it's none of my business. Of course."

"Did you just kick him?" Bruce asked. He didn't understand why Pepper was being protective of him, but it made him feel just a little bit safer.

Pepper smiled sweetly at him. "I hate to resort to violence, but sometimes he doesn't understand the subtler things like direct requests to stop, brass bands, skywriting, cease and desist letters, being held in contempt of congress..."

"Hey. Hey, it's not that I don't *understand* them. I'm a genius, remember? I don't misunderstand. I wilfully ignore."

Pepper rolled her eyes.

"Why?" Bruce asked.

"It's more fun that way." Tony flashed his most shark-like grin in Bruce's direction.

"Tony, for heaven's sake. It's like you're ten years old and you're not only acting out for attention, you're bragging about it." Bruce tried for a joking tone, but some of the impatience he often felt with the other man's behavior crept into his voice.

Tony stopped as if slapped.

Pepper patted him on the arm. "Wow. He just got you absolutely dead to rights."

Tony turned his injured gaze onto her.

She continued with a twinkle in her eye. "Clearly you two have a deep sympathetic understanding."

"What are you saying, Pepper?" Tony asked. His expression was tightly controlled as though he were in front of cameras. He looked like he didn't dare move his facial muscles for fear of the whole thing breaking down.

"That you should be making mixes for Bruce."

Tony grinned slowly. "Are you talking about music playlists?"

Bruce chimed in. "I'm sure she wa..."

Pepper was already talking over him. "Maybe. Maybe not." She shot Bruce a grin and a wink as she kept talking to Tony. "After all. He's already made mixes for me."

"Bruce. This is true. You 'made mixes' for my girlfriend but not for me. This is hardly fair," said Tony, leaning across the table.

This time Bruce could hear the air quotes. How had this become a thing?

"Hey, Pepper," Bruce said in a pleading tone. "Weren't you just using violence to stop him teasing me?"

"No, I was using violence to get him to stop prying into intimate details of your life and generally being an asshole. I approve of him teasing you. You're adorable when you blush."

"Oh, my god. He really is," chimed in Tony. "Look. He's doing it now."

"Wow. I am out of practice at flirting. Or maybe it's just getting flirting double-teamed. That hasn't happened to me before. Seems unfair," Bruce pointed out. "Two against one."

"I'm not sure 'unfair’ is the word you should be using about two-against-one action," said Tony.

"I'm certain it's not," Pepper agreed.

"Lucky."

"Glorious."

"Exalted," said Tony.

"Hot," countered Pepper.

"Compelling."

"Entertaining."

"It's definitely entertaining," said Bruce. "Still unfair."

"Hah! You say that now. Either one of us is liable to switch teams at any moment. I'm going to do it now, but you have to join in. Pepper, you look amazing in that suit...thing." Tony looked expectantly at Bruce.

Bruce looked at her, shyly. She did look amazing, but he couldn't formulate how to tell her. He struggled to say something, anything. "You always look comely in that shade of blue."

"Seriously? Comely?" Tony scoffed.

"I'm out of practice!" Bruce protested, again. "I was actually never in practice at flirting with someone else's girlfriend."

"She was just flirting with you. Turnabout is fair play," said Tony.

"I liked the comely thing," she said, softly. She gave Bruce a private smile and something inside him leaped up. Bruce smiled back, but quickly looked down at his plate.

"It's true...ah...however inappropriate it was for me to say it. Especially as your employee," he said to his club sandwich as much as to Pepper.

"Screw professionalism." Said Tony.

"Well, you would," countered Bruce.

That got a peal of laughter out of Pepper that further warmed his heart. Bruce took a deep, shaky breath.

Tony put on a theatrically wounded look and started talking about the new suit he was building, instead. Bruce asked him a bunch of questions about it as they occurred to him. Bruce couldn't help noticing when Pepper began to frown.

"I'm sorry," said Bruce. "We should be talking about something of interest to everybody."

"No! It's no trouble," said Pepper. "All part of the care and feeding of a mad genius. I was just wondering how many different specialized suits Tony was planning on making. If you have so many, how will you even know which is the right one for the job?"

Tony looked at her in surprise. "It's better than waiting till each one gets too beaten up to use before I make the next one, wouldn't you say?"

She pressed her lips together. "Put it that way, I suppose you're right."

Bruce hadn't thought about how beaten up Tony's suits got. "How many have you made so far?"

"The one I used in the battle was the Mark 7."

"How many have you built since?"

Tony shrugged. "I have several designs in the works, Bruce. You've seen a bunch of them. Experimental stuff."

Bruce nodded.

"If you still feel like The Hulk is a raw deal, I can show you how much I'm spending on them."

Bruce frowned. "You could always opt out."

"Like hell," said Tony. "The more I find out about the dangers that are out there, the less likely that ever becomes."

He was staring at Bruce. Bruce looked up and met his eyes. He nodded. He absolutely got it. Certainly, now, the thing that made him a hero was the only thing he was vulnerable to, but how well he remembered being vulnerable to everything - always steeped in a world full of danger.

Pepper was looking between them, her face distressed. "Who wants dessert?" she asked, running long fingers through Tony's hair as she got up, and squeezing Bruce's shoulder as she passed by.

"You ordered dessert? We're not twelve." Tony gave her a fond look, even in the midst of that disdainful speech.

"I didn't, but there's gelato," she said.

"I have to get back to work," protested Tony.

"Bruce is going to stay for it. Aren't you, Bruce?" Pepper looked at him with so much bright hope on her face that the warm thing in his gut stirred, again.

"Uh...yeah. Sure. I'll stay."

"Fine. I will too," said Tony with a show of exasperation. He turned to address Bruce, "But only if you'll come help me with some things after lunch."

"Hey! I have work to do, too, you know."

"Sure you do, mister 'I got so wrapped up in my mix tape I didn't get anything done this morning.'"

"I'm not serving you two. Come in here and scoop your own," called Pepper from the kitchen.

"You're not? What kind of scientist farm is this?" called Tony. He sprang up and practically dove through the door. When Bruce got up to follow, they were kissing in front of the fridge. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, his around her waist. Bruce backed away. He stood there for a second, then went to the bathroom. He suspected they wouldn't even notice he was gone, but when he got back, Pepper passed him a dish of lemon gelato with fresh blackberries over the top.

"Thank you. You didn't have to get mine."

"It's all right," she said. She took a spoonful of her own and made a noise that bordered on obscene.

"It is really good," agreed Tony. "Come on, Bruce, try it. Don't render all Pepper's zookeeping efforts futile."

Bruce laughed and took a bite. He had to admit, it really was good. The whole lunch had been good, but the warm feeling in his stomach was giving birth to a gnawing anxiety. Could someone like something too much? He knew neither of them meant anything by their flirting. Tony flirted with everything that moved and he guessed Pepper had just picked up on some of that habit. He shouldn't be encouraging it, but it just felt so nice...to be included, to be considered worthy of flirting. It didn't mean anything beyond friendship, but oh, how he had missed friendship. And if he missed other things, too, well, he'd have to keep that compartmentalized. He didn't want to lose what he had because he couldn't deal with the way Tony and Pepper treated friends.

I shouldn't make another mix, he thought. When he had put in a very full afternoon with Tony and Pepper had come to chase them both out of Tony's workshop, again, Bruce nonetheless sat down with his solitary dinner and his new library full of music to make her a mix worthy of the one she had made him. He had Jarvis send it to her phone before he went to sleep.

As he was getting ready for bed, later than usual, he said, "Hey Jarvis, can you get me up at six?"

"Certainly, Doctor Banner."

Bruce slipped into the bed. The AI turned down the lights without needing to be asked. "Hey Jarvis?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

"Does Tony flirt with everybody?"

"Sir engages in casual conversation with sexual undertones with a large percentage of the people he interacts with in my presence. This behavior was only slightly curtailed with Ms. Pott's change in status from his assistant to his significant other."

"Okay." Bruce settled in under the covers and closed his eyes. He tried to steady his breathing. "Jarvis?"

"Yes?"

"Does Pepper flirt with everyone?"

"I have insufficient data to formulate a similar analysis for Ms. Potts."

"Estimate an answer based on the data available?" he asked, uncertainly.

"No, Doctor Banner, she does not."

"Hmmm...thank you," Bruce said as he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Two more rounds of mixes had gone back and forth, that week, by the time Steve's training session came around on the calendar. Though Steve had agreed that this would be a totally bare-knuckle sparring session - no suiting up, no weapons, no changing into enormous green rage monsters, Bruce was still concerned. It had been a long time since he had taken blows without changing, or taken blows at all as himself.

He hoped that walking into the situation knowing what was going to happen would help him keep a lid on the other guy. He had done extra meditation and stretching this morning, in his nervousness, as though the pre-emptive penance could spare him from committing the sin.

Tony came and collected him from his lab. The other man didn't seem tense, but Bruce suspected his nonchalance to be the veneer he installed in front of a lot of his negative emotions.

"So," Tony asked, as they made their way to the gym, "Are you gonna let the big guy out to play?"

Bruce let out a noisy breath. He could feel himself getting more tense, any advantage from the morning's mental discipline slipping away. "He doesn't play, Tony. This is training. I don't think he can be trained."

"He cooperated last time. Took Cap's direction... And the gym is fully reinforced to take his weight and contain him, just in case."

Bruce shook his head. "That's good to know, but since none of you are reinforced similarly, I'm going to try to keep him where he is."

Tony fell silent. He shifted his weight back and forth and stretched out his neck, tilting his head to one side then the other. "Pepper liked your latest mix."

"Did she? Good." Bruce got that warm feeling, again. He tried to tamp it down. He couldn't get too dependent on any warm, fuzzy feelings that were going on, here. He feared he was already addicted to being around Tony and Pepper. When he was with them he felt better than he had in a long time. To the point where he was afraid he would either put a strain on their patience and goodwill or, worse, be unable to pull himself away and leave when it became necessary.

"Yeah. I think she liiikes you. She was exclaiming over how perfect it was." Tony poked Bruce in the shoulder with a finger. He was grinning impishly.

"I can almost literally never tell when you're making fun of me. Which has been true since the moment we met, so honestly, I should be used to it by now."

"It's nice to see her happy and full of romantic sighs."

"Tony. Cut it out."

“I'm just saying, even if you won't make me a mix, I appreciate all the mix-making that's going on."

"I never said I wouldn't make you a..." Bruce was cut off by the elevator opening on the gym floor. Steve and Natasha was already there. Clint emerged from a door at the back in a tank top and some kind of workout pants.

Steve called over to them. "Hey you two. Get geared up. Since Bruce isn't up for changing and we probably don't want to discharge any weapons in here, I thought we'd work on some hand-to-hand."

"Oh, wow. Bruce and I are about to get our *asses* kicked," said Tony.

And there was the tension again. He could distract himself, he could mitigate it, but no effort he made could dispel it.

"No one is getting their ass kicked. We're going to learn from each other and about each other, and you never know when you'll be caught without your suit, so it might come in handy. And Bruce: it might keep you from needing to change, depending on the severity of the situation." Steve was speaking calmly and reassuringly, but Bruce knew no matter how many files he read, he couldn't possibly understand how the Hulk worked. Hell, Bruce didn't understand it and he'd been scientifically studying the transformation for years.

Bruce took a deep breath and nodded. He headed for the locker room. Tony sped after him.

"So, when do I get my mix?" he asked as soon as the door closed behind them.

Tony opened the locker with his name on it and started to get changed. There was a locker with his own name on it. He opened it. It was full of workout gear in his size. He hadn't bought any of it, so presumably Tony had, or whoever he'd paid to put this place together. This kind of casual inclusion really got to Bruce, but he tried not to let it overwhelm him and started dressing. 

"What?" he asked.

"You just said you'd make me one."

"I said I never said I wouldn't make you one."

"So? Make me one."

Bruce couldn't help sighing in frustration.  
"I think you should make Pepper one, first."

"What?"

"She likes them. She likes the gesture. When was the last time you made a gesture like that?"

"There were plenty of gestures last night. Good gestures. Dare I say: great gestures." Tony was grinning impishly, again. Bruce was staring at him. If he had known Tony in college, he probably would've hated the guy. So good looking and he seemingly found it so easy to talk to people. Bruce never had found that easy.

Bruce groaned. "That is very much not at all what I meant."

Tony's grin faded. "Well, okay, we have date night once a week."

"Is that something she has to put on your calendar? Bug you about? Make all the plans for?"

Tony fell silent, frowning.

"I'm just saying, you should try surprising her with something nice once in awhile." Bruce looked at Tony's shoes, and ran his fingers through his own hair. He sighed.

"Like what?" Tony turned away and shut his locker.

"You know her better than I do."

Tony grimaced. "I don't know. It's not always obvious what she's going to like. You know she used to buy her own birthday presents from me?"

"Just use your big brain and your imagination, Tony. You're relatively new to this, right?"

Tony looked affronted. "What? I'm not new at romancing people."

"No, but you're new to relationships." Bruce was willing to bet Tony had never had to maintain a relationship over time before and could insulate himself from many of the consequences of not doing so. He had never had to get good at reading people or working with someone else's emotions. His money made him a super-solid, surrounded by liquid. Everyone had to conform to him.

"Not that new at this one. It's been a few years." His tone was defensive, but his face betrayed uncertainty.

"I'm just saying. She likes it when I do it, how much more would she like it when you did it? I mean, she *loves* you." That much had been completely obvious to Bruce from the beginning, as well as the converse.

Tony opened his mouth, pressed it into a grim line. "Yeah, but right now I think she likes you better than she likes me. You guys are really getting along."

Bruce wondered "I try to get along with everyone. Rage monster, remember?"

Tony's face went flat. Then, abruptly, his mask of aggressive cheerfulness was back. "They're waiting for us. You ready?"

Bruce wasn't sure what he had done to replace Tony's mask. It bothered him, but he didn't want to delay the start of practice. "Sure."

They trailed out onto the gym floor. Steve had them start with stretching, then he had Natasha take the wheel to teach them how to fall with minimal damage. They practiced that over and over. falling onto the mats and getting advice on form. Then they practiced punching and blocking. Natasha looked thoroughly bored. Clint was impassive. They both cheered up when Steve put them together to do some sparring, which left Bruce and Tony to pair off.

Tony took a jab at him, which Bruce blocked easily. Bruce returned the gesture half-heartedly.

"You know, you're actually supposed to try to hit me, right?" the other man asked him.

"I don't like punching people."

"I do. It's really satisfying in the right circumstances," said Tony, with studied casualness.

"What constitutes the right circumstances?"

"Well, now. I'm going to hit you, now."

"Tony," Bruce said in a warning voice. If Tony really clocked him one, he was afraid they weren't going to get out of this session without a visit from the other guy.

"You can handle it. You can handle all of this. Come on." Tony jabbed several times. Bruce blocked each of the quick light hits. Tony came at him again, stepping to the side and sending a right hook at him which clipped Bruce's elbow as he ducked away from it. It hurt, maybe more than just taking the thudding blow on his side would've. He stepped back further and pressed his hands to his face. Tony held back. Bruce could feel the Hulk stir within him, but he was fine, the pain was receding. He breathed and tried to maintain control.

"See? I told you you could handle it."

He lifted his face up and raised his hands up and showered Tony with hits. Not as hard as the man had hit him. Tony squawked and blocked the best he could. Bruce noticed he wasn't holding his fists up to block his face, they were too low. Then he realized. Tony didn't care about protecting his face. He was protecting the arc reactor.

Bruce backed off.

"Why are you stopping? That was good!" Tony called at him.

"I'm not stopping. I'm trying to figure out which one of us is crazier for even being here."

"It's not you." Tony asserted.

"I'm not so su..."

"It's not you," he said, again.

Bruce's mouth twisted and he regarded Tony's shoes. "You realize it could actually be both of us, right?"

Steve made them swap partners and Bruce wound up opposite Clint. From the sounds that were coming from the other pair, Natasha was already kicking Tony repeatedly about the head and shoulders as Clint and Bruce circled each other making tentative moves in each other's direction.

"Come on, Doc. I'm not going to hurt you."

"I don't care about getting hurt as long as I can keep from hurting you."

"You know what? Why don't you try? See if you can land a good hit. I've been doing this a long time and I bet you coffee at our next session that you won't."

That was enough for Bruce to be reassured. Instead of sparring properly, he kept trying to hit Clint and the man blocked and evaded, using quite an array of techniques - many more than they had been working on earlier.

When they finally broke, the two men were both sweating and taking heaving breaths.

"Can you show me some of that?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah. Sure, doc. When we're both free," Clint responded. Then he grinned, broadly. "You owe me coffee."

Bruce chuckled. "No problem. Totally worth it."

Steve clapped loudly. Bruce was suddenly glad no one had given him a whistle. "All right, folks. Now I'm going to have you come up and spar with me, one at a time. Natasha. Why don't you come up, first?"

The other three stepped off to the sides of the mats. For a while, they watched quietly, but when Natasha pulled the move where she flipped up and took Steve down with her legs, that was apparently too much for Tony. "Should I be enjoying this?" He asked the other two men.

Bruce snorted.

"Absofuckinlutely," said Clint. "On all kinds of levels."

They brofisted while Bruce rolled his eyes. He didn't need any more reasons to objectify Natasha. It was hard enough when she was who she was and slipped in and out of stereotypical roles with ease. "No sexually harassing Natasha, please."

"Oh, man, Pepper has you more whipped than she has me, and I'm dating her," said Tony.

What the fuck does that even mean? Bruce wondered. "Do I have to point out she could probably kill both of you at any random time? Does a woman have to be deadly to earn your respect?" Bruce crossed his arms over his chest. He'd never been comfortable with this brand of manliness. It didn't help that the military was rife with it and anything that reminded him of the military was a Bad Thing.

"She's had my respect as long as I've known her," protested Clint. "But all the fighting moves are sexier on her."

"Than on me? I'm hurt," said Tony.

"Learn how to do that and we'll talk." Clint snapped back, gesturing to Natasha doing the leg takedown one more time.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "All right, then."

Bruce was looking back and forth between them. He wanted to laugh. "Well, that's kind of a heavy prerequisite for flirting."

Clint laughed. "I gotta have standards, Doc."

"You flirted with me the other day," Bruce pointed out. "I can't do that."

"Ah, but you have something Tony doesn't."

Tony raised his eyebrows at that. "Do tell! It can't be money. Is it skills? Did he strip his way through college? No gag reflex? Ten-inch cock?"

Clint looked pointedly at Tony. "Manners," he said, decisively.

Bruce dissolved into spasms of laughter.

Tony's jaw dropped. "What the hell, Barton! I'm charming."

"Sure you are. For the three hours leading up to sex or during an interview. Since I never interviewed you and you never tried to put the moves on me, I guess I missed out on the infamous playboy charm."

Tony sputtered incoherently. Natasha walked up, looking, to Cap's credit, like she had been exerting herself. Bruce knew that she frequently didn't look like that when she had actually fought someone. "Your turn for a beating, Stark," she said.

While Tony took his turn, the three of them chatted about random things. Life in New York, mostly. Somehow the topic came around to dating.

"Thinking of throwing your hat in that ring, Doc?"

Bruce pulled his arms around himself. "No."

"Why not? I bet Hill would date you," Clint was grinning.

Natasha snorted.

"First of all, no, she wouldn't, not if she's smart, which she seems to be. Secondly: uh...just no."

Clint's grin, if anything, grew broader. "Why? Not your type? Too military? Too organized? Insufficiently sciencey? Too female?"

Natasha socked Clint in the arm. "Leave him alone."

"What? It's a valid question. I just want to know what his deal is."

"Look. I don't have a deal."

"By inclination or by..." Clint was cut off by another blow from Natasha.

"You know why."

"But before the other guy?"

Bruce sighed. It seemed moot, now. "I only dated women."

"Doesn't really answer my question."

Bruce looked at him. "Nope. It doesn't."

Natasha grinned, now, as Clint rolled his eyes. "Everyone in my fucking life is so fucking secretive. You're making me miss the circus. Everyone gossipped, there."

Tony walked back over to the others. Clint offered him a high five. "Not half bad, Stark! You learn quick."

"Sure. Genius isn't just an honorary title, you know."

Natasha snorted, again, perpetually unimpressed by the guys she was hanging out with.

Tony continued, "Your turn, Clint."

Clint took a turn and, even though they were all done, they stayed and waited while Bruce took a turn. He was nervous, again, but Steve came at him slowly, and let him practice his blocks.

When he was done, he walked back over to the group.

"You around this afternoon?" Tony asked him, eagerly. "I have something to show you in the workshop." He looked over at Steve. "Hey! Cap! Are we done?"

"Yes! I'll put it on your calendars, again, next time we're all in town."

"Who's going out of town?" Tony looked around, but his eyes settled on Bruce.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Hello? Some of us work for a living."

"Shield op," said Clint. "Not sure how long we'll be gone. Minimum one week, but it might go longer."

"You two be careful out there. Will I see you again before you go?" Bruce asked.

"Sure," said Clint. "Usual time. You owe me, remember?"

Natasha made a noncommittal movement of the head.

"Well, if I don't see you, please take care," Bruce said to her.

"This is very touching, but considering she just wiped the floor with everyone, even Cap, I think she's going to be fine," said Tony. "She can take care of herself."

"I know that!" Bruce protested. He looked at her and tried to put all the force of his respect into his words. "I would never imply otherwise."

Natasha rolled her eyes in Tony's direction and reached out to shake Bruce's hand with a quiet smile. "I always take care."

"Good," he said with a crooked smile. She didn't say she couldn't possibly face anything worse than she had when he changed on the helicarrier, but he suspected she was thinking about it.

"Come on!" Tony was pacing by the door. "You guys can kiss it out later!"

Natasha's face fell into a neutral expression and she walked out. "Don't push me, Stark," she said as she left.

Clint was right behind her. "I beg you to keep pushing her, because it's going to be hilarious when she gets sick of you," he said to Tony, and shook his hand.

Steve followed him with handshakes for them both. "Thanks for coming, today. You did well," he said. He could have been speaking to either of them, but he was looking at Bruce.

"Ready to come play?" Tony asked, as Steve left them alone in the gym.

"Sure."

"You seem relaxed."

"I feel pretty good. It's been awhile since I've practiced maintaining control while taking hits and it went better than I expected."

"It went well. You looked good out there."

"Did I? I wasn't even talking about the physical stuff. I just meant up here," Bruce tapped his own temple.

"Fine. Let me talk about the physical stuff, then," Tony said, waggling his eyebrows as he did.

Bruce rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure," he said, as they got on the elevator. "Cause you wouldn't mock me."

"I only mock those I can tolerate." Tony was bouncing.

"Gee. I'm overwhelmed."

"Well, maybe if you made me a mix."

"Are you still on that? I'll make you one..."

"Finally!"

"If you make Pepper one."

"What?"

"And me. One for me and one for Pepper, but Pepper first."

Tony groaned. "But, I'm busy!"

Bruce huffed a half-laugh. "Unlike Pepper?"

"I notice you don't say unlike you."

"I'm not nearly as busy as either of you. I just get in the way."

Tony rolled his eyes and ran a hand abstractedly through his hair, letting out a sigh, "Jesus, Bruce, how many times do we have to tell you that is not true before you actually start believing it?"

Bruce looked at him, then down at his shoes. "I don't know."

"Aww. Don't do that. Come on. You make me feel like a schmuck when I make you sad."

Bruce chuckled. "That is the most self-centered argument for me to cheer up that I've ever heard."

Tony laughed. "Come on, big guy, let's go work out our feelings as men do."

"Didn't we just do that in the gym?"

"I meant on the electronics."

"I'm pretty sure you're the only one who works out his feelings that way," Bruce countered.

"I have it on reliable information Tesla did it that way, too."

"You and Tesla both need therapy."

Tony laughed and they went in to tinker for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

Tony began amused by Bruce's and Pepper's little mix club, but it felt more and more like a big deal that he was missing out on over the course of the next week. He didn't hear much about the deep and emotional mix, except that it was 'very sweet', but a few days later, Pepper got a different one full of dance music. She kept playing it whenever she was dancing around the penthouse the way she sometimes did. He liked this side of her. This was the stuff he didn't used to see when he was her boss. Tony had Jarvis steal that one and played it, sometimes, in the workshop. Dancing around, himself, if there was no one to embarrass himself in front of except the bots.

One day he came upstairs to find a large crinkled mess of brightly colored cellophane on the table and loud music spilling from the palatial bathroom off the master bedroom. He followed a trail of discarded ribbons and things to find a half-empty basket on the bed. A piece of white card next to it merely said - in handwriting he didn't recognize, but suspected must be Bruce's - 'To address the stress caused by the care and feeding of geniuses." 

Tony knocked on the door to the bathroom. The music suddenly dropped in volume and her voice rang out, "Come in."

The enormous tub they scarcely ever used was full of water and bubbles and Pepper. Her Stark-reader was on some kind of floating stand in a waterproof case in the middle of mountains of bubbles and she had a glass of wine and candles lit around the edges of the tub.

Tony grinned at her. "You look like you're enjoying yourself."

"I am." Her hand emerged and set a water-proof vibrator on the edge of the tub between two candles. "Care to join me?"

Tony's eyebrows shot up and his mouth fell open. "Did he send you that, as well?"

She gave him a look. "No. That was mine, before, babe. You gave it to me, remember? He sent me tasteful and classy things - nothing that personal."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I should have known. He still won't strut."

"He just has a different style than you do," she said with a frown for Tony.

"Yeah. I would've sent the vibrator without the other stuff," he said, with a snort.

She stretched luxuriously. "Well, I like it all together. You have no idea how much I needed this."

Something twisted inside him at that. He really hadn't had any idea she might need anything like this.

"I uh...I'll leave you to it, then, honey." He turned to leave.

"You're not going to join me?"

He shook his head and tried to smile. "No. I'd have to shower to get clean enough to get into that bath."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Well...you could do that. We have the technology."

He laughed at that. "You sure? I thought you're relaxing from the stress I cause you."

She tilted her head. "So, tonight you'll instigate some different emotions in me." She grinned lasciviously and then stretched again, this time deliberately arching so her wet breasts emerged from the bubbles and then disappeared again - a little peep show he knew she was putting on just for him.

"Well," he relaxed a little, and grinned. "If you're sure. I'm going to go use one of the other showers so I don't disturb you, but I'll be back."

As he walked out, the music raised in volume, again, and suddenly paused and went back to the beginning of the current song. She didn't want to miss any of it, apparently. This was starting to make Tony twitchy. Like, did Bruce know Pepper better than he did? Or did he have access to some kind of secret Hulk-related power that let him figure stuff out about her? The man always claimed he was totally separate from the Hulk, but Tony had never seriously believed that.

On the other hand, figuring out what women wanted didn't seem like it would be on Hulk's list of skills. So this must just be Banner.

Tony shook his head and got into the shower. He'd known Pepper way longer than Bruce had. He kept being exasperated with his own absurdity. He was delighted the two of them had taken to each other, but he was jealous that Bruce was doing nice things for Pepper and not for him. But he wanted this, he wanted them to get along, he wanted them all to get closer. He just didn't like the insecurity he was feeling while everything was still up in the air. And, truth be told, he wasn't really used to Pepper having guy friends. I mean, sure, she was friends with Rhodey. Sort of. They liked each other. Same with Happy, but both of those guys were definitely his friends. Actually, come to think of it, he couldn't really remember her having friendships that he had ever really noticed.

Maybe that was it. As her employer, and then as her boyfriend, he'd been her focus for a long time. He remembered how disconcerting it was to give some of that attention up when he'd made her CEO. And then she and Happy and she and Natasha had gotten closer, and, well...damn. Didn't she deserve a life outside of him? He knew he wasn't always good at giving her what she deserved. She deserved everything.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he said aloud.

"What is the trouble, sir. Can I be of assistance?" came the smooth voice of his AI into his shower.

"Aw, it's nothing, buddy. I just think I'm maturing as a person or something."

"Congratulations, sir."

Tony laughed. "Not maturing that much, J. Don't you worry."

He finished his shower and went back to see just how much he could get Pepper to relax.

Later that night, once she was fast asleep, he slipped down to his workshop to work on the suits, again. He couldn't help it. He didn't want to sleep and felt downright energized after the evening's entertainment and a short nap. He picked up his tools to begin, and then suddenly stopped and looked into space.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes sir."

"You know what music Pepper and Bruce like, right?"

"I do," said the AI's smooth voice.

"I have a project for you."

"Very well, sir."

"I need you to make mixes for them....of music," said Tony. He cleared his throat. He was aware this might be cheating, on some level, but he always used Jarvis to cheat. And he'd made Jarvis, so it was all the same in the end, right?

"I am familiar with the concept, sir," said Jarvis, dryly.

"Can you make one for each, and send them to whatever devices they use for listening...uh...starting with Pepper."

"If you like, sir."

Tony contemplated it for all of three seconds, then slapped his hands absently together and looked around the workshop. "Yeah. Do it."

Tony worked till the still of night. He came to with a massive crick in his neck, and found he was slumped over a table of parts, arms uncomfortably cushioned on a bunch of scraps, bolts, washers and cogs. He groaned and peeled himself off the jagged pile of small metal objects.

"Good morning, Sir. I've started the coffee," said Jarvis, sparking him to full consciousness.

"You're a fucking treasure, Jarvis. Is it actually morning?" He blinked owlishly at the light coming through the windows at one end of the room.

"Early afternoon, technically, sir. I also have several messages pending."

"Fuck the messages."

"One of them is from Doctor Banner."

"Oh," Tony perked up. "Read it to me."

"It reads, 'Nice try, Tony. I meant you had to make the mixes, yourself. Not farm it out to Jarvis. Doesn't he already do enough for you?'"

Tony looked up. "What did you do?"

"I, sir? Nothing but what you asked. I made playlists for both Ms. Potts and Doctor Banner based on their musical preferences."

"Show them to me." Tony flipped through the lists that popped up before him on the holographic display. He groaned. "You put songs from some group called 'Robots in Disguise' on both of these.'"

"Indeed I did, their stated preferences indicated those tracks would be well..."

Tony cut him off, jabbing an accusing finger ceiling-wards. "You sold me out."

"I wouldn't dream of it, sir. If I may...Doctor Banner, upon listening to his mix, became suspicious fairly quickly."

"Why?" Tony's eyebrows knit together.

"He said it was too perfect. Also, I believe he considered the lack of either Black Sabbath or AC/DC to indicate that the playlist adhered too closely to his own musical preferences and was not at all reflective of yours."

"Oh." Tony slumped. Too perfect was not something that seemed like an issue to him. "What about Pepper?"

"Ms. Potts has sent no message, but I do not believe she has had the time, yet, today, to listen to the playlist. She made a comment about saving it for when she was alone."

Shit. She was going to listen to it and she was going to be disappointed, too.

"How long do I have before she comes home, Jarvis?"

"If she comes home at her usual hour, you have five to six hours."

Tony felt a wave of panic, but he shoved it down and steeled himself. "All right. Let's do this. Uh...shit. I barely even know what she likes, musically. Fuck."

He could feel frustration and panic start to set in. Both emotions that had been much more familiar since Afghanistan, but which had been bubbling so close to the surface since New York he almost felt like he never got rid of them.

"If I may, sir, when Doctor Banner made his initial playlist, he began with a list of Ms. Potts's most played songs. I' be happy to compile such a list for you."

"Do it, and one for Banner, too, please." Tony actually knew more about Bruce's musical preferences, since they'd spent so much time working together, and Tony had gone as far as to learn what would make the man cringe or roll his eyes versus what would make him bop his head and get lost in the music. Looking at the second list that came up, though, he could see the punk rock music that they could both agree on was only a fraction of what Bruce listened to.

"Okay, Jarvis, let's get this done."

He did manage to finish a new playlist for Pepper. All the songs were hand-picked and Jarvis only made a few suggestions.

Tony was still working on the one for Bruce when she came in and gave him a kiss. "You're a sweetheart," she said. "Strangely needy, but a sweetheart. You know you don't have to be all things to me, right? You know I love you for all the things you are without you trying to be the things you're not?" Tony sighed. She'd seen through him, of course she had. He wanted in on every area of her affections and if he had to behave like someone else to do it, he would try.

He clasped the slender arm that wrapped around him and closed his eyes. "You deserve the things I'm not. You deserve everything."

"Don't be ridiculous, Tony, I have everything I need. We can give up on anything else right now if it's bothering you this much." He knew she was talking about Bruce and something unclenched beneath the arc reactor that he hadn't really realized had been clenched.

"No. No. I just...I want it, I want you. I want everything, whether I deserve it or not."

She grinned and kissed his neck. "That sounds like the Tony I know and love." He could feel her breath against his ear as she said in a low voice, "Coming upstairs any time soon?"

He turned to look at her, "Ah, not too much longer. I have something I want to finish up, first."

"Mmmm..." she said, and gave him another kiss. "Don't wait too long."

He tried not to rush through making Bruce's mix in spite of the promise inherent in her words. He finished it and had Jarvis send it before he went to the penthouse.

Tony was feeling pretty good about himself. He had, for once, managed to do it all right. An easy feat with machines. A difficult one with people. Of course, the very next day, he fucked everything up.

* * * 

It had been a glorious week for Pepper. Since the night in the bathtub, Tony had seemed a little more present than he had in months. Bruce was actually talking to her often, dropping by her office for occasional coffee and sending her articles and videos he found online that he thought she would like. She was a little disconcerted to think she might be his only hobby, but it was better than no hobby at all. Jarvis reported he was listening to music all the time, now, and seemed to be maintaining a more positive outlook.  
Natasha reported that Clint was seeming more and more like his old self and Steve reported that the first real team work out had gone better than he thought it would and showed promise for smoother team operations in the future. Even Thor had sent a message that his brother was punished, but not harmed, and while his tone was not exactly pleased, he spoke of its justice.

She was content to sit at the center of her web of influence and feel the positive tremors coming back to her from all over this new team.

And Stark Industries was doing well. Tony hadn't been out of the lab, much, lately, but a lot of S.I. technology was being leant and donated to the relief effort, and the new green building in Washington had no remaining suites to lease and there were plenty of contract bids for the Chicago building even though they'd just broken ground on it.

When the calm broke, she almost felt like she should have known. Tony was the destabilizing element in all her well-laid plans. He had been for at least a decade. And while she did really love him, sometimes his actions and the thoughtlessness that tended to accompany them set her teeth on edge.

She didn't know Tony was the cause of trouble, at first, though of course, she had her suspicions, but when he skipped dinner after almost a week of actually showing up for it (and of being genuinely apologetic when he'd been too distracted to do so), she knew something in the wind had shifted. She went down to his workshop and was not terribly surprised when the door wouldn't open to her code. "Jarvis, please ask him to let me in."

There was a pause while negotiations occurred on the other side of the door and it slid open.

"What is it?" he asked, shortly. "I'm trying to finish up, here."

She looked around the space and could tell, from the disarray, that he was nowhere near finished anything. "You're not coming up, tonight." She didn't phrase it as a question.

"Probably not," his voice was flat. It cut her, but she covered it with the mask of efficiency she always wore.

"Well, eat something, at least. Jarvis, make sure he eats."

"I will do my best, Ms. Potts."

She went upstairs and ate, alone, and played the mix he'd made her, then answered emails and did research till she was tired enough to fall asleep.

She didn't see Tony the next day. And after lunch, she realized she hadn't heard from Bruce that day at all, either. When he hadn't sent any notes by her usual quitting time, she tried dropping by the lab to see him on the way home. He wasn't there. She collared someone else who worked on that floor who reported to her that they hadn't seen him all day. She checked the building logs only to see he had gone out and hadn't returned. That wasn't like him, at all, but she set an alert, and Jarvis reported him returning sometime after she had eaten dinner.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"He has gone to Sir's workshop, Pepper, but I think they'd rather not be disturbed," said Jarvis.

"Tough," she said.

The door was actually still hanging open, being obstructed from closing by Bruce's tense shoulders. She had already taken off her shoes and so she approached quietly. She heard him saying something in tones she'd never heard from him before.

"You can't just take what you want, Tony. You can't do everything you please just because you think it's entertaining."

She she heard a half-articulated noise of protest from within.

"These are lives you’re playing with. Not just your life. Not just your and Pepper's relationship, but actual lives when you jerk me around, because you think it's funny," Bruce sounded hurt, angry, desperate.

"I don't think it's funny," was the protest that emerged this time.

Pepper walked up behind the doctor and got a glimpse of Tony's pained face. She'd only seen him look that way before when he'd been dying and she hadn't known. Seeing him look that way was like being struck. She wanted to rush to him, but she'd clearly interrupted a very serious conversation about whatever was actually wrong. She debated between sneaking away again to let them finish or diving in and trying to clean up his messes like always, but the latter was difficult to do when she didn't know what he'd actually done and the former became impossible when he caught sight over her over Bruce's shoulder and his face twisted into something between pain and a prayer.

Bruce wasn't raising his voice at all, but his anger was absolutely evident. His whole back was tensed and hunched in a way she had hoped he'd left behind him for good. "If it's not funny then what do you think you're fucking doing, Tony? I'm not your plaything. I'm not a schoolyard chum. I don't just let people touch me, let them in, let them...kiss me."

Oh. Oh god. Fucking Tony. He never could do things in the right order.

Tony's face was drenched with hurt and pleading. "I didn't want to hurt you. That wasn't what I was...You're not a plaything. I was trying to...I wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

"But you'd do it to Pepper?" Bruce actually jabbed a finger in Tony's direction. It was the most aggressive Pepper had ever seen him be.

Tony shook his head, and looked expressively at her over Bruce's shoulder. The physicist finally caught on to her presence and whirled around. His eyes went wide and then his face collapsed like a wall under the fists of the hulk. His mouth dropped open and then he fled, totally oblivious to them both calling after him.

Tony looked like he was actually on the verge of tears. She couldn't comfort them both. She did what she knew best, rushing forward to enfold Tony. "Oh, honey. What happened?"

"It...I swear. I meant it. It just...seemed right and I..."

"Shhh. It's going to be okay."

His arms finally came around her and clung. "I don't think so," he said in a broken voice that went straight to her heart.

She got him to agree to let her watch the video record.

She went upstairs to watch it, because he didn't want to see it. They were talking earnestly, grinning together. Bruce stepped nearer to Tony and Tony just...leaned in to close the gap. It really did look like the most natural thing in the world till Bruce staggered backwards and away. She couldn't see his face but she'd be willing to bet his eyes had gone green in that moment.

He didn't turn back to Tony before several seconds of deep breathing, but when he did, the look on his face was pained and startled and hurt. Tony reached out for him, but Bruce turned tail and ran.

God, no wonder Tony hadn't come to bed.

She returned to the lab. He was still there.

"Come to bed," she said, softly.

He shook his head.

He wasn't even working. He was staring at one of the gloves of the suit and twisting a screwdriver in his hands over and over. When she managed to get that away from him, she saw it was a flathead and that he had rubbed his hands raw.

"I have to go find him. I have to make it right," he said.

"Do you know how you would do that?" she asked, quietly.

"No," he admitted.

"Do you think he'll even listen to you?"

"No," he said.

She kept her voice quiet and soothing. "Then let it be, for a while."

She did try to go see Bruce, herself, but his apartment was on priority lockout.

She didn't realize it was too late till she got a message the next evening.

"I have a message for you, Pepper, from Doctor Banner. Previously recorded for delivery at this moment."

"Please play it," she said.

"Pepper, I'm so sorry," the familiar voice, sounding more hoarse than usual. "I never thought this was even a possibility. I...it's been so long since I had any kindness and I let myself get swept up in it. It was a mistake. I'm so sorry for hurting you."

He took it for granted that he had. She wanted to hug him.

"I'm leaving. You won't get this message till well after I'm gone. I know you'll respect my wishes. You always do..did. Try to keep Tony from following me, if that's the sort of thing he would do. I'm going to try to go somewhere I can do some good, again, and not fuck up the relationship of the two people who have been nicest to me in the last six years."

"Goodbye. Thank you for everything." Bruce's voice broke over the last sentence and Pepper was crying. He was already gone. Already gone.

She cried alone on the sofa for a few long moments, before it occurred to her that Tony must have gotten a similar message and ran for his workshop.

When she got there, he was sitting on the floor, staring blankly at a jumble of objects that she felt fairly sure had been on one of the workbenches minutes before.

She tumbled to the floor next to Tony and held him close and he blinked as if she had wakened him.

"He's gone. He's gone and it's my fault. He's alone, again, because I couldn't stick to the plan." Tony's voice was flat.

She just held on and stroked his hair.

"He's gone. He's gone and I made him leave. It's my fault. I break everyone that I touch."

She squeezed him closer "Shh...you do no such thing."

"I am no good at this. I...oh, god, Pep."

Finally, his arms came up to wrap around her. They sat that way for a long time. She got him into bed. He was numbly following orders in a way that was more chilling than anger or sobbing would have been.

When he was asleep, she fell apart again, herself. She let herself cry for a while, then she made arrangements to take them both back to Malibu the next day. They needed to be away from here for a while. She could stand to be back at HQ for a while for the business, anyway, and he needed familiarity - home might do the trick.

"How long are you going to be there?" Steve asked when she called to let him know.

"At least through Christmas. Maybe longer," she replied.

Tony was still sound asleep when she came to bed. For a change it was her wrapping around him to fall asleep, wanting to be assured he was real and solid before she drifted off.


	6. Running, Reunion and Recitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Tony is facing the demons of his past, Bruce faces his present. 
> 
> (AKA: What Bruce was doing during Iron Man 3.)
> 
> Clint finds Bruce. Bruce gets a talking to and a shovel talk. Pepper tries to come to terms with extremis. Bruce and Tony reunite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to RedheadScientist for doing con crit for me on this chapter.

In spite of what Bruce said to Pepper about trying to do good, he wandered aimlessly for about a month. He took slow small jumps through nearby states, taking cash work where he could get it for a week or so. For all he'd spent years and years running wherever he could in the years leading up to being pulled into the Avengers, he hadn't felt this lost in a very long time. He should've really taken up running, again, but he wasn't even sure where to go. He knew, this time, that S.H.I.E.L.D. was keeping people off his tail. It took some of the urgency out of it, but also removed some of his focus.

He knew Tony would've been upset about him leaving, but it had been the right thing to do. He had to keep reminding himself of that. He cared deeply about Tony, but he cared about Pepper, too. He absolutely would not be a party to the destruction of their relationship, if he could help it. He didn't even want to be a bump in their road, but he feared he already had been.

As the other guy or as his own 'puny' self, Bruce smashed everything he touched.

His brain wouldn't let it go. Manual labor gave him too much time to think, unless he could work himself into exhaustion. He kept feeling the touch of Tony's lips to his, kept seeing the pained look on Tony's face when he pulled back, the shocked look on Pepper's when he turned around to see her when he'd gone to confront Tony.

So he drifted and combated memory. He wasn't as good at it as he wanted to be, especially given that he'd had so much practice.

One night, he was skulking around the back door of the restaurant in Bar Harbor, Maine where he'd managed to get a job as a dishwasher. He'd been there for weeks. The old couple who ran the place had taken him on even though it was after the season.

It was near close - the frigid darkness all around him a relief after the heat of the sweltering kitchen. He left his coat open to feel it. The lights in the alley made stark shadows. He noticed something moving - someone strode down the alley. Bruce may not have been in peak 'hunted man' form, but he knew when someone was walking with purpose and focus...knew when they were looking for something. A voice called out and confirmed it, "Bruce."

Bruce quickly looked around, his pulse suddenly racing. He might be able to clear the wall at the other end of the alley, but there was no visible way up on this side. Damn it. He should've planned better.

"Hey, man, it's cool. It's cool. I'm here alone," the voice clicked into place.

"Clint?"

The archer stepped into the pool of light formed by the light over the back door. "Hey, man. How are you doing?" Clint was sporting a crooked grin.

"I'm sorry." Bruce took in the grin, then looked at his own shoes.

"For what?"

"Running off."

"Hey, no. It's cool. I get it. It's one of my specialties, too. It took me a long time working with S.H.I.E.L.D. before I didn't keep it in my back pocket, just waiting for the first sign of trouble."

"Shit, Clint, are you AWOL right now?"

"Naw. I got Fury's permission to come look for your sorry ass." Clint leaned against the wall next to him.

Bruce regarded Clint, suspicious of his studied nonchalance. "Why did you ask for it?"

Clint gave him a pointed look. "Why do you think, asshole? You're my friend and you're in trouble. You did something stupid to try to get out of it, so I'm here to help."

Bruce laughed. "What makes you think I'm in trouble?"

"You were living in the tower for months, then suddenly, you were gone. You're not an idiot. I figured you must have had a pretty good reason."

Bruce felt something inside him twist. "I did. How did you find me?"

Clint smirked. "Jesus, Doc. You barely even tried to make it hard."

"I didn't? No electronic devices, paid cash everywhere, changed transportation about fifteen times before I wound up here."

"Stark was pretty upset when we found your bike, you know."

"Look. I...I don't need to feel more guilty," said Bruce, unsteadily.

"But you will, anyway."

Bruce huffed a half-laugh. "It's like you know me."

"You know, whatever bonehead maneuver Stark pulled, the team still needs you."

"Don't deserve..." Bruce shook his head.

Clint cut him off. "Don't you give me that shit. Not after all you put me through about saying that kind of thing."

Bruce looked at him and nodded solemnly. "All right. Is something actually going down? Or are you just up here to generally herd me back into the fold?"

Clint stared at him. "You don't know?"

Bruce looked at him blankly.

"Shit. You *don't* know. Okay. You must not have been looking at the news at *all*. Come on, Doc."

"My shift isn't finished."

Clint rolled his eyes. "How long, then?"

"Give me fifteen minutes."

Soon after, they were headed for the motel room Clint had gotten on the mainland, off the interstate. Bruce had apologized and let the folks he had been working for know that he probably wouldn't be back. They didn't seem all that perturbed. After all, tourist season was well and truly over, and odds were they had been keeping him on out of kindness as much as anything.

They had swung by the room he was renting where he left double the next week's rent in cash and a note of apology and shoved all his meager belongings into his bag.

In the car, Bruce looked at Clint. "You gonna tell me what's going on?"

"Can't. This is a rental."

Bruce nodded. Not secure. Hard to sweep for bugs.

"Want to tell me how you found me?"

Clint snorted at that. "Why, so you can make it harder for me next time? No, thank you. If you want to learn that set of secrets, you'll just have to go through SHIELD boot-camp like I fucking did."

"Not likely,” Bruce muttered.

"I know."

They rode quietly till and Bruce trailed Clint into the motel room.

Clint ushered him in, and gestured for him to maintain silence while Clint swept the room with some sort of SHIELD-issue bug-finding device. He finally looked more or less satisfied and turned to Bruce. "Okay. The first part of the story isn't even classified. If you had turned on the T.V. news in the past week, you'd know about it."

Bruce sat and listened while Clint told him about the bombings and about the threats. The most technologically fascinating parts were how the terrorist's organization had managed to hijack all the airwaves at once - quite a feat in any day and age. When Bruce heard that there was no evidence of bombs at the sites of the bombings he frowned.

"What does that even mean?"

"No bomb parts, no trace elements, no nothing. It's like nothing the investigators have ever seen."

Bruce frowned and scrubbed a hand through his hair, distractedly. "Shit."

"Yeah, shit. We could use your brain, Doc."

Clint's phone chirped. He answered with a breezy, "I found him! Safe and..." He fell silent as the person on the other end cut him off. His face hardened into a mask. He silently reached for the T.V. remote and turned on some news channel.

Bruce's blood turned to ice as he watched. Tony had threatened this terrorist, and as he watched, live on television, the man's house was bombed to oblivion and fell into the ocean. He could feel his face go white and his limbs felt totally slack. No. No. No. No. No. "I have to go. I have to go right now." He was scrambling for the door and just had gotten through it when the pain tore through him and the world went green. The last thing he heard was Clint shouting a string of swears as he bounded away into snowy woods.

When he came back to himself, his breath was forming steam and his ass was freezing. When he blinked his eyes open, he was looking into Clint's face.

"Did I hurt anybody?" he croaked. There was a blanket over him. He presumed Clint had put it there. It wasn't preventing the cold of the frozen ground from seeping into him. He could feel himself start to shake.

"Nope. You did wreak quite a swath of destruction through some woodlands, but you did all right. I think the guy was blowing off some steam. I've been tracking you for quite a while. Not that it was hard,” Said Clint, sitting beside him with the hood of his coat thrown back, and one hand planted on the ground behind him.

Bruce was shaking. He couldn't tell if it was from the cold or the memory of watching the concrete and glass edifice crash into the Pacific. "Tony's....Tony's dead."

Clint gave him an apologetic look. "Turns out he isn't, actually. Pepper got a hold of us. He's alive. He called her after the attack on his house. But even she had thought he was dead for hours."

Bruce breathed, curling into the blanket and feeling something in his gut unclench. "Thank god."

"Don't thank anybody, yet. She's missing."

"What?" He sat straight up, blanket falling away. "I need to go there. I need to go there, now."

"Go where, Doc? We don't know where either of them are,” said Clint, trying to wrap the blanket around his shoulders as Bruce frantically scrambled to his feet.

Bruce had no idea where he was or which direction was South. He stood there, helplessly shaking in the cold and looking around like there was a plan in the semi-darkness under the trees. "Their last known location. Anywhere. Shit. I feel like I might Hulk out again." He wiped his hands over his face and through his hair, trying to ground himself, to center, to breathe.

Clint took off in a seemingly random direction. Bruce trailed after him. "If you can keep that in check, I can take you to the nerve center of SHIELD and we'll get all the news as it happens, and as soon as we know anything about anything, you'll be there."

The thing inside Bruce unclenched again. "Yes," he said.

Clint gave a wry smile. "You got it. I have clothes for you in the car. Might be a little more effective at keeping out the cold than the army blanket."

Bruce followed him, weakly, feet burning with the cold of the frozen ground. Clint helped him get dressed, got him into the car and turned the heat up to full. He handed Bruce a gallon of orange juice and a bag full of pre-packaged gas-station sandwiches, jerky and chips and screeched away towards civilization over the bumpy dirt-and-rock roads of Northern inland Maine.

Bruce ate all the food and fell asleep in spite of himself. By the time he woke up, both Tony and Pepper had been located and were sort of okay. They were alive, at least. He debated running away again, but it was perfectly clear to him that selfishness would win out. He couldn't protect them by leaving, or by staying. The world was all prickly catch-22s and he was screwed. He might as well be screwed near to them as far. If he was near, he could actually help if they were going to try to get themselves killed. And Clint's maneuver in coming to find him had made one thing clear - he was on a team, whether he liked it or not.

Natasha made it even more clear, when the two men came into Headquarters, Bruce still feeling the worse for wear after his Hulk-out. She strode over to them in that fluid way she had and slapped him full across the face.

He blinked at her, mouth sliding open.

"Don't do that again," she said.

"You can't just hit me," Bruce protested. It had stung, but hurt no worse. "It's dangerous."

"If that's your only objection, I'm going to do it daily," she said, "Till you promise you won't leave again without telling me."

"Actually, you can't slap him because it's wrong to slap people." Clint pointed out. "Especially civilians."

She huffed and rolled her eyes and strode away.

Bruce turned to Clint, hand to his own face and feeling stunned, "When did she start trusting me?"

Clint shrugged. "New York," he said.

Bruce felt that like a fist. "She...uh...she shouldn't."

Clint raised his eyebrows at Bruce. "You want to tell her what to do?"

"In this case, yes."

Clint snorted as though that had been a joke and showed him around.

Bruce still wasn't all that comfortable at S.H.I.E.L.D., but it seemed rude to at least not try to trust them when they were putting so much trust in him. He stayed there for a full ten hours, uncertain, in any case, whether he had anywhere else to go. It was long enough to fully recover from Hulking out, to get a shower and to get a haircut at S.H.I.E.L.D.'s barber shop. He also ate huge volumes in their dubious cafeteria, in spite of Clint's horrified amusement and offers to take him elsewhere.

"I'm just hungry. I'm barely tasting it," he had assured Clint.

"Good," Clint had replied, sipping his coffee and watching Bruce tuck into a third helping.

Bruce slept again, but was awakened after just a few hours, by Natasha. She bustled in and shook him till his eyes opened. She had an armful of new clothes for him.

He groaned. "Stop trusting me."

"Who says I do? Get up. Get a shower. They've sent the jet for you. I'm taking you to the airport."

"What? Who?"

"Pepper called, she's sending the jet to take you to California," said Natasha.

"Aeroplanes are not a good ide..."

Natasha interrupted him. "You were fine in the one S.H.I.E.L.D. sent for you last year."

"I think that's an exagger..."

She cut him off again. "Last time you were given a choice in the matter, you ran off without telling anyone because you got kissed."

"Who told you that?"

"Pepper and I are friends. Women talk to each other about nearly everything." She sounded like she was reciting something she'd been taught. Then her voice softened. "She was really upset when you left."

Bruce's heart sank. Of course she was. "About the kiss?"

Natasha looked at him like he was stupid. He hadn't moved from bed. "Get up. Get a shower."

"I'm not wearing anything right now," he said, clutching the sheets on the cot.

She rolled her eyes and headed for the door. "Don't waste time. I'll be right outside."

Bruce got up and stretched; he slipped into the tiny bathroom off the room and showered quickly. Clint had brought his bag in, at some point. He debated, briefly, wearing something from it rather than the clothes Natasha had brought, which were much nicer. He didn't want to insult her, though, so he slid into them, grabbed his bag and went out. When he turned to close the door, he noticed a little plastic sign with his name on it. He stared at it a second.

"Your room," she said. "In case you're thinking of running away, again."

"Running to S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't really running away."

"No. I meant I'd bring you back here and lock you in it."

He swallowed. "That's not funny."

"Neither was you leaving,” she said perfectly levelly.

He looked at her. Her face was almost as impassive as ever.

"Sorry," he said. His mouth twisted and he looked down.

"Let's go."

In a shorter time than he dreamed possible, he was on the plane. Natasha didn't come with him. She said something about cleaning up in Miami and strode out, leaving him alone inside Tony's plush private jet. He looked around, trying to take it in, but his mind was swimming. He was so tired. Between the hulk-out and sleeping fitfully in the car and at SHIELD, he'd had maybe seven hours sleep in the past couple of days.

He tried to sleep, but any hope of that dissolved as his mind raced. Why was he even going? Tony and Pepper were both fine. Still he had to admit, through everything he'd done, he had never stopped missing them. Selfishness. But was this even what was best for him?

Bruce worried about his motives and the future all the way to LAX.

* * *

After long, sleepless hours in the jet, the plane landed. He sat up and tried to straighten out his borrowed clothes.

When he walked down the steps and saw a man he'd never met with a military bearing and a flight jacket there, his eyes went wide and he nearly dropped everything and ran.

"Doctor Banner?" the man asked. "My name's Jim Rhodes. Pepper sent me."

Doctor Banner shook his proffered hand, nervously. "You army, Mr. Rhodes?"

"Hell no. Air force. And it's Colonel, not mister, but to you, it's Jim. Hasn't Tony mentioned me?"

"Wait. Air force...he doesn't call you Jim." Bruce vocalized his realization. "You're War Machine."

"Yeah. Tony calls me Rhodey, or a host of other things I don't like to think about or share with strangers."

Bruce chuckled, dryly and briefly met his eye. "I know what you mean."

"And it's Iron Patriot, now."

"Huh?"

"Instead of War Machine. I got a rebranding and a paint job."

"Oh..." Bruce wasn't sure what to say to that.

"You seem a little out of it, Doc. Come on. Let me run you over to the temporary Stark HQ." Jim held the car door open for him. Bruce slid inside and did some deep breathing as Jim walked around the car. This was Tony's friend. Pepper wouldn't send someone who was dangerous to pick him up.

"So...how long have you known Tony?" Bruce asked as Jim slid into the car.

"About three million years," he said. "A geological epoch. More or less. Since college."

"Has he always been..." Bruce made a vague gesture with one hand.

Jim laughed. "He used to be worse, believe it or not. He's calmed down a lot."

"This is him calmer? Jesus fucking Christ," said Bruce.

There was brief silence.

Jim narrowed his eyes. "Look. I don't know what all has been happening with him. He wasn't getting out much before this whole thing with AIM and the bombings, then his house got blown up and he...made a grand gesture. He's kind of prone to sweeping declarations, but...he blew up all his suits."

"He what?"

"Yeah. Pepper said he did it to prove he wasn't going to let them be a distraction any more."

"He blew them up?" Bruce saw how hard he'd worked on all of them. He couldn't fathom why Tony would just do that.

"Yeah," said Jim. "Not sure it matters from a material standpoint. Jarvis still has all the plans and Jarvis synthesizes most of the parts, anyway. My point is, he's prone to sweeping declarations, but not gestures like that. He's only done something like that once before, when he got back from Afghanistan and, well...I think he's still not...okay."

Bruce nodded and was silent. Of course, he'd been through a lot. He wouldn't be.

"And I'm saying," continued Jim, "if you being here is going to make that worse, I can always take you back to the plane right now."

Bruce looked at him and opened his mouth, then closed it. "You want me to go?"

"No...I'm not saying that. I'm saying I know Tony's been through a lot since the big superhero team-up, and I know part of that has to do with you." Bruce got the feeling that the only reason he wasn't on the receiving end of a piercing gaze was that Jim's eyes were fixed on the road.

"Tony told you what happened?" Bruce looked over in surprise. He watched Jim's face for any sign of what Jim was thinking.

"Pepper told me how upset Tony was when you left, but not why you left." Jim didn't even glance at him, eyes still studying the expanse of road.

"I fucked up. I wanted to get out before I fucked up worse," said Bruce with a shrug.

"Well, Pepper didn't talk about you fucking up. She talked about you leaving." said Jim.

"I fucked up before I left," said Bruce.

"And you didn't stay to fix it," said Jim. It wasn't really a question.

Bruce shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "My being there was causing problems, by itself."

"Bullshit."

Bruce couldn't counter the single word dismissal without laying himself on the table, and he wasn't ready to do that. He lapsed into silence.

"What I'm trying to say is, I'm driving you to Tony and Pepper's place from the airport, because Pepper asked me to, but if you're going to just take off again, I'll drive you back right now. No harm, no foul. It's not everyone that can handle being friends with Tony Stark. But if you're in it, you're in it, and you try to work through shit. And if you're in it, I'm here for you, because believe me, I fucking know. But if you're out, then be out."

Bruce looked at him, considering. "I think I'm in it."

Jim frowned. "Don't think. Know."

"Look." Bruce's mind was racing. "I'm not sure why they want me back around after what I...what happened, but I'll do my best to fix it, if I can. I do know that I was...happier around them than I was after I left and I want that."

"All right, then," said Jim. "None of this means I'm not burning with curiosity about what happened, by the way, but I'm too polite to ask you."

Bruce snorted. "I can see why you and Tony get along."

"I'm not too polite to ask him."

Bruce laughed. "Seems fair."

"I just haven't gotten around to it, yet. He's had other shit on his mind."

Bruce frowned, at that. "Yeah. I was so relieved to hear he was okay...er...not dead."

"I know exactly what you mean. Keep an eye on him. That is not the last time you'll have that feeling. He is 'missing, presumed dead' on the regular."

"I guess it comes with the superhero gig," said Bruce, quietly.

Jim snorted, "Not when *I* do it."

Bruce chuckled. "So what's it like?"

"Being in the suit?"

"Flying," said Bruce.

"It's pretty damned awesome," admitted Jim.

They drove on.

* * *

Pepper got the news that the plane had landed from one of her assistants and tried not to let her stomach do a flipflop. Since she'd been injected with Extremis, bad things happened when her stomach flip-flopped. She stayed calm and tried to remember that she'd taken Tony's stabilizing supplement that morning and Tony was still working on a long-term solution and she was going to be fine. She called Tony.

"He's landed," she said. "Rhodey is picking him up. I can't get away, right now."

"It's fine. I'll keep him entertained till you can come home," said Tony.

"We have no home. You let a terrorist blow it up," she said.

"Hey, remember when you were so relieved that I was still alive that I didn't get blamed for anything?" said Tony. "That was fun."

Pepper sighed. She was still relieved.

"You just love having something to lord over me for the rest of our lives," Tony went on.

"Cause I didn't have plenty already," she said.

"But this is the big one. For the next forty years, you can get away with anything. We'll be eighty and you'll have a harem of twenty-year-old men hovering around you, and I'll try to object and you'll be like, 'remember that one time you let a terrorist blow up our house?' and I'll have to shut up and let you get on with the sexing."

She laughed. She couldn't help it. Then she grew sober. "How is Happy?"

"Still stable," he said, soberly. "They say the signs are good."

"Did they find Dummy and Butterfingers yet?"

"The salvage team is still shifting debris," he said, shortly.

She sighed and decided to change subjects. Those topics seemed tender, like bruised areas in the brain. "Well, don't entertain Bruce so hard he leaves again," she said.

Tony snorted. "Don't worry. He made it very clear he doesn't want that kind of entertainment by fleeing the country last time."

"Actually, Clint said he only made it to Maine."

"Oh. Only fled the state? That makes me feel SO much better, Pep. Thanks."

"Just...try not to make him feel weird. Plenty has happened. Just...get him caught up or something," said Pepper. People were hovering for her attention. She waved them off.

"Sure. I'll tell him the epic tale of how I let a terrorist blow up our house, so he knows who is winning my relationship."

"It's not a game, Tony. No one is keeping score."

"Says the woman who already said she was winning before the house exploding incident even happened."

Pepper laughed again. "And they blew up my giant rabbit," she said, in a theatrical mournful tone.

"I can always get you another one," he said.

"Don't you dare."

"Twenty! To stare at you with their dead eyes. Hell. I'll rebuild the house out of them."

"Just...” her voice grew soft, “try not to die or appear to die for the next year, and I'll consider that to be an excellent present."

Tony sighed. The bantering tone had abruptly been shed from his voice. "Yeah. Sure. I....uh...no promises."

"I love you," she said.

"I love you, too, Virginia," he said. "Get back to work before my company's stock goes belly-up again."

"It did that because you threatened a terrorist then died," she pointed out.

"Well, I'm alive again. Make sure everyone knows," his voice still sounded heavy.

"Goodbye, Tony," she said.

"Goodbye, spicy light of my life." The lighthearted tone that went with the endearment seemed forced. She sighed. He was still working through things. She hoped that Bruce coming back would be a help not a hindrance. She knew Tony could use all the friends - the true friends- he could get.

Tony hung up and she shook it off and got back to work to try to finish the vital things as quickly as possible. There was always a backlog after she'd been out of the office, even though she took work with her everywhere. She tried to stay present, but her mind kept drifting to Tony and Bruce. She hoped it wasn't too bad, too awkward...she thought about what Tony had said - that Bruce had made it clear he wasn't interested in Tony, but Pepper wasn't so sure. Everything he'd said in the conversation she'd overheard, and in the letters, made it clear he was worried about coming between them, but not that he didn't want Tony.

She sighed and shook her head. She needed to keep her mind on what she was doing if she was ever going to get back to the apartment. She tried not to think about the chemical processes going on inside her. Tony said he was going to fix it and he had never failed her.

Okay, he had often failed her, but he wouldn't, this time. And maybe Bruce being around would actually help him keep focused and not over-reach. Not to mention Bruce, for all he was originally a physicist, had more biology expertise than Tony did.

She put her nose to the grindstone and tried to focus. The sooner she could, the sooner she would get to see them both.

* * *

Once Tony hung up the phone, he barely knew what to do with himself. He paced briskly through the apartment (the penthouse of a building he or the company owned - he couldn't remember which) looking for things to fidget with, but all of his tools and his grand piano were at the bottom of the Pacific. He thought about what Pepper had said and about Bruce speeding here in a car with Rhodey.

His skin felt tight. He ran a hand over his face and then down the back of his neck. He paused in the middle of the living room. He looked down his own body at the grubby tank top and track pants and thought about putting on something different. His skin prickled and itched. He went to make a drink.

Tony swirled the scotch around, thoughtfully, in the glass, added one cube of ice to it and swirled it again. He listened to the sounds it made. He put the glass down and went to the bedroom to change. He was in there when the doorbell rang. He pulled on a t-shirt and hoodie over his tank top and went to answer the door. Rhodey was all smiles and Bruce was there, hanging back behind him. The guy looked...good...exhausted, but good. He thought he must look similar himself.

“Rhodey! Bruce! Come on in,” he said, sweeping an arm around to indicate they should come in. They did so. Rhodey stepping in briskly, and Bruce hovering by the door, looking as though he might bolt.

"Gonna stay to join us for a drink, Cupcake?" Tony asked Rhodey.

"I can't, man. I did this favor for you, but I actually have to get back to work. Not all of us can blow up entire mansions and have it not affect our bottom line," said Rhodey.

"Jesus, am I ever going to live that down?" Tony's skin felt prickly, again. He scratched his neck.

"It was less than a week ago, Tony."

"Oh, right." Tony gave a shit-eating grin. Bruce was fidgeting with his bag and clutching onto it. The little movements were ramping up the anxious buzzing in the back of Tony's brain. He wished Bruce would stop.

"Yeah," said Rhodey, looking exasperated. That was good. He had mostly been looking worried. Exasperated was better - more familiar ground, historically.

"So, it's probably gonna take a little longer?" Tony asked Rhodey. He grimaced and reached out and took Bruce's bag. He looked down at it in surprise. It felt like there wasn't anything in it.

"I would think. At least a little." Rhodey agreed. “Anyway, I have to go.” He turned to Bruce and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Doctor. Don't let him railroad you into anything stupid."

"How am I meant to prevent it?" Bruce asked, with a tight, tired smile.

"Tell him he has to call Pepper for permission first," said Rhodey with a grin. He turned to Tony and smacked his shoulder. "Just...stay here. Try to relax."

Tony waved a hand at him, distractedly. "Sure. Sure. I'll relax. I can relax better than you. I am the master of all relaxation. Relax to the max. That's me." Tony said. He was unzipping Bruce's bag to look in it. Bruce looked offended and took it away from him, again. "The world has never seen such relaxation." He looked up at Rhodey, who was looking worried, again. Shit. What had he said?

"Just...sit down or something," said Rhodey.

"Coming by for dinner?" asked Tony. Rhodey had most nights this week. Rhodey glanced at Bruce, then his eyes flicked back to Tony.

"I think I'll pass for tonight, but I'll see you tomorrow?" He was heading for the door.

"Sure thing, buddy, thanks for dropping the wayward genius off,” Tony said.

"God. Now there's two of you. I'm going to send Pepper a fruit basket," he said, and took off.

Bruce was looking as small as possible, and dead on his feet. He was still clutching his empty bag to his chest.

"Hey," said Tony, once the door had shut behind Rhodey.

"Hey," said Bruce, back.

"Look, let me show you where you're sleeping. You can put down your...nothing," Tony gestured to the bag.

"Okay," said Bruce. He didn't let go of the bag. He was, in fact, keeping the bag between himself and Tony like some sort of shield. Shit. Tony smacked his forehead and dragged his hand down his face, again.

They were walking down the hall. "So, uh...what's been up with you, since you fled my reign of terror?" He wasn't looking at Bruce, couldn't stand to see how he'd take the question or the description of himself.

"Not much. I picked apples for about a week at the very end of the season, then I dug potatoes, then I bussed tables, then I became a dishwasher."

Tony did turn to look at him, then. "I don't know how you do all that shit," he said. "Here you are, huge brain, huge training, washing dishes..."

Bruce shrugged. "I can think about what I want wherever I am. I do what I have to do."

Tony nodded. "Except you didn't have to. Not this time."

Bruce tilted his eyes to meet Tony's for a brief moment, before dropping them to the hallway floor again. "Tony, look, I..."

"Hey. Forget about that, for a while. I'm not supposed to be harassing you. You look like you were dragged behind the plane, instead of riding on it."

Bruce's mouth twisted and he smoothed his hands over his clean white shirt, self-consciously.

"Metaphorically, big guy. You'll be sleeping in here. Guest room with all the trimmings. Not as good a view as the mansion, but hell, the view is all that's left, there, so...yeah. This is better."

Tony opened the door and let Bruce dump his bag on the bed. He stood there awkwardly, watching Bruce stand there, awkwardly. Bruce breathed in as though to say something. Tony decided he couldn't stand to hear what it would be, so he opened his mouth and let anything fall out of it.

"Look...you want a drink? Or something?"

Bruce blinked. "Sure. Sure. Why not."

Tony trailed back to the living room sniffed at his now watery scotch and went to pour it out. He poured another one for himself, neat, and pointed at Bruce.

"Got any juice back there?" Bruce asked, nodding at the bar.

"Yeah. Yeah. I can do that," He poured a cranberry juice for Bruce and handed it over. He held his glass up and waggled it. Bruce clinked it. "It's good to see you," said Tony.

"It's good to see you, too," said Bruce, quietly. He looked solemn, like he was swearing it in court.

"Pepper missed you," said Tony.

"I missed you both," said Bruce. His eyes flickered to Tony's face. "I'm really glad you're not dead."

"Hey! That makes two of us. Maybe even three. Jury's out on Pep," He snorted and downed the scotch.

"So...how *are* you not dead?"

"What do you already know?" said Tony, trailing over to one of the low slung chairs. Bruce sank into the corner of the sofa nearest him and started fiddling with his glasses.

"I saw your house fall into the ocean on the news, and then, when I woke up, they said they'd found you."

"When you woke up?" Tony sipped his second scotch and looked at Bruce in confusion.

"Uh...when I turned back into myself," admitted Bruce.

"Oh," said Tony. Bruce had hulked out...at seeing his house blown up. Bruce hulked out when he thought Tony had gotten himself killed. Something like hope flickered in Tony's gut. He took another sip of alcohol to see if he could kill it before it got a good grip. "Well, it's a long story."

"I'm not sure I'm up for a long story, right now," murmured Bruce. He rubbed his eyes and yawned, but Tony was already in it.

"It all comes back to this one thing: A famous man once said, 'we create our own demons'. Who said it? Why did he say it? Doesn't matter..." Tony leaned back into his chair. He closed his eyes and let the words slide out. All the doubts and fears of the past few days and months. Here Bruce was, ready to listen when he talked. Surely that, too, was a good sign. Bruce didn't interrupt him, and he let the story flow.


	7. Revelations and Transformations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper's brush with power and death gives her the urge to come clean about her schemes to Bruce. Bruce doesn't know what to make of the emotional landscape he's come back to. Tony is trying to hold himself together in the face of recent events and the ongoing consequences of his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, again, to RedheadScientist for doing con crit for me on this chapter.

Pepper decided she had to come clean.

Schemes were all very well and good. They usually worked out for her. She was good at scheming, but life...life was short. Life was this weird and delicate thing and it could just be over. Over at the hands of a supervillain or a natural disaster or a weird alien invasion or a random accident.

She just wasn't sure how many more chances she was going to get. The fire banked inside her might consume her at any time. (No. Tony wouldn't let that happen. He wouldn't fail her. Not again. But he'd let her fall...but he wouldn't. Not when it was a choice.)

Telling Bruce at this point might make the whole scheme come apart, of course. But then again, it might not. It was a risk. So was her next breath. She just needed the truth to be out. No more bulllshit - not with anyone she cared about. She had started by telling the truth to Tony. Now she was going to tell Bruce. She was tired of teetering on edges. It was time for all the other shoes to drop.

Tony would probably be livid.

Pepper was jittery all the way home in the car. The new driver (whose name she kept forgetting -- that wasn't like her) was quiet and unassuming and kept the drive totally smooth and calm. That should have helped, but instead, it reminded Pepper of Happy still recovering in the hospital. It was all she could do not to cry as the guy (it was some very common name...Brown? Jones?) held the door for her when they got to the apartment building.

She thanked him, absently, and went in with slow, deliberate steps.

When the elevator let her out into the penthouse foyer, she heard Tony talking. Bruce was framed through the entry door, head down, face in his hands. He looked so tired. She shucked her high heels and moved closer to the door, silently. She got the whole picture: Tony, eyes closed, laying back as though on a therapy couch, Bruce, listening slumped and exhausted.

She walked in, slowly, almost tiptoeing. She walked more lightly than she used to, in any case. Fire still burned inside her. The fire had come after the pain, and it had never burned her, but she was so frightened she might burn someone else. Extremis had made her into a weapon which, for all the aiding and abetting she'd done of Tony over the years, was something she never wanted to be.

She walked into the living room on tippy-toe, silently gliding in till she was behind Tony's chair. "Honey?" she said. "I think you lost Bruce."

"What? Fuck. Again?" Tony sputtered as he opened his eyes. "Hello by the way. Welcome back to the temporary base of the Potts-Stark empire."

She snorted indelicately. "Thanks." She leaned down to kiss him. "You've been drinking."

"Yes. Lots," he said. "Sort of? Maybe. I'm not sure. Mostly before Bruce got here."

"How long have you been talking at him?" she asked.

"I don't know. All afternoon? Long enough for him to fall asleep...twice, apparently." Tony's voice had the edge of bitterness.

"Poor thing. He must've been exhausted," said Pepper. "I've seen him listen to you for ages without doing that."

"He apparently got shuttled here more or less straight from a Hulk-out," said Tony. "He's pretty wiped out after those."

"Did something happen on the trip?" she asked.

"No...I...uh...he Hulked out when he saw what happened to the house on the news."

She went silent at that, mulling it over. "Well, I'm going to wake him up and put him to bed."

"Why wake him just to make him sleep, again?"

"Because if he sleeps sitting up, he won't feel very good when he wakes," she said, with a sigh. She brushed a light hand over Bruce's shoulder. "Bruce?" she said, raising her voice a little.

"Hmmm? I'm with you!" he said.

"Well, that's good to hear. Why don't you go to bed, though?" She said.

He looked up as though surprised to see her. "Pepper?" Then he nodded heavily. "Okay. Bed is probably a good idea."

Tony raised a tumbler of scotch in toast as Bruce picked himself heavily off the sofa. "See you after some shut-eye, big guy."

Bruce waved vaguely at him. He seemed flat and not quite himself to Pepper, but maybe that was just the exhaustion. He seemed even more subdued than when he'd first come into their lives. He took off down the hallway and she walked after him.

"Tony showed you where your bedroom was?" she asked, going with him, anyway.

"Uh...yeah. He...put my bag in there, earlier."

She followed him there and hovered in the doorway. He looked up at her, eyes questioning.

"May I come in for a minute?" she asked

Bruce fidgeted, shifting uncomfortably, but he nodded.

She came in and perched on the very edge of his bed, feet flat on the floor. She looked at him. "Bruce, I owe you an apology. Maybe a whole world of 'I'm sorry.'"

His head whipped up. His eyebrows knit together. "What? Why?"

Pepper took a deep breath and looked at her own hands in her lap. She looked at Bruce's hands, which were fidgeting with his glasses, again. She couldn't make herself begin to talk about the ways in which they'd tried to ease him into life with the Avengers - and life with them. She didn't realize how long the silence had stretched till he interrupted it.

Bruce gave an exhausted sigh. "Pepper, I appreciate that you have been through some big stuff...you and Tony, and I don't want to give it less attention than it deserves, but I am truly, truly exhausted right now. I fell asleep on Tony through one round of this recitation."

Pepper felt guilty. She thought of Natasha accusing her of manipulating Bruce to meet her own emotional needs, instead of his. She sighed. "Of course. Of course. You need to sleep. I'll let you do that. We'll have time to talk, later."

Pepper slunk out of the room and left him alone. She paced down the hallway and then couldn't stop. She walked into the living room and walked circles around the chair that Tony had vacated. He was at the bar fixing a drink. In fact, she suspected he was back at the bar fixing *another* drink. She wondered how many he had already drunk.

"Pepper, you're making me dizzy. Would you sit down?"

"Is it me making you dizzy," she asked, switching from circles to figures eight wending around the sofa, crossing her own path, around the chair and back again, "Or is it the scotch?"

Tony sighed and put both hands down flat on the bar. "Pepper. Please. I just...this has been a rough day. Or didn't you hear, the guy who rejected me dramatically and ran away is here and I still have no idea why he even..." Tony picked up one hand and slammed it down. The glasses rattled.

"Of course you have no idea why. What'd you do? Talk the entire time, Tony? Did you let him get a word in edgeways?" Pepper said, levelly. She could tell this conversation wasn't going anywhere productive. Tony confirmed that by drinking what he had in his glass in one long draught and refilling it immediately.

"What was I supposed to do? I mean the guy just..." Tony gulped down his glass and refilled it yet again. "Pepper, jesus. Why did we even ask him out here? What kind of idiot am I that I just thought..." He shook his head. "I don't fucking know what I thought."

"Oh, Tony," Pepper spoke softly. "Tony, you thought he was out there without a friend. You thought he was scared to come back. You thought he needed us."

"Well, Pep, I used to just think about what I need, and I have to say, in spite of all the glitz and glamour and fucking pathos of being a superhero...lately I fucking miss being a selfish bastard whose house doesn't get blown up and whose girlfriend isn't routinely in danger."

"What about whose self is routinely in danger?" She walked over and tried to take away the bottle. He held it up and away till she gave him a look and he sighed and handed it over. She put the top on it and put it away.

"Yeah. I was always in danger. I just didn't know that, because the guy I looked up to like a second father turned out to be a monumental backstabbing fuckstain." He took a long pull from his glass, closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

"Well, he tried to kill me, too," she said, gently putting her hand over his, around the glass. She pulled his hand back down to the bar.

"I know. I hate that," he said. "It's my fault. It's all...every time you get hurt. My fault. Either because I put you in danger...or I'm the one hurting you. And I tried. I tried to keep you safe and to...And if Bruce had been here, none of that stuff would have happened."

"Bruce couldn't have stopped Happy from getting blown up, Tony. He's not magic. He can't be everywhere."

"Pepper. I tried to let go. I'm...I've...I'm trying, but...I don't know what to do, now. The anxiety won't stop. I want to stop feeling this way."

"I know, baby. I know." She held him for a while, just stroking his hair and willing him to be still. She could feel his breathing slow and looked up at him. She took a deep breath. "I want to tell Bruce. I'm going to tell Bruce. Tomorrow. That we...everything."

Tony looked confused for a moment. Then he looked pained. "Pepper hasn't the ship really...sailed on your scheme?"

"It doesn't matter. I want...I need to tell him the truth. I need to..." she took a deep, steadying breath. Everytime she got overwrought, she was afraid her skin would heat and she'd be able to melt metal by walking through it. "I need to...divest myself of secrets."

"You can't. You can't! He's just going to leave, again. You said it, yourself. He needs us...we can't just..."

"Tony," she said. She put a hand on his arm. He stilled. "I think he has a right to all the information. I think maybe, if he'd had it before, he might not have left when he did."

Tony snorted. "Yeah. He'd have left long before that."

"Maybe. But...I just can't, anymore. I care about him and I care about you and I just...," she was tearing up, now, in spite of her best efforts.

"Pepper he doesn't want it. He made that clear by running the fuck away. He doesn't want this...us. He doesn't want it. He still needs us...don't pull that out from under him." Tony was raising his voice. She didn't really feel equal to that right now.

Her own voice quavered as she struggled to continue. "I just want everyone I care about to know how I feel. In case...in case something else happens. In case you're not able to...In case next time it's too late."

"No. Pepper, look. There's not going to be a next time. That was what blowing up all the suits was about. That was..." Tony waved his arm vaguely behind him. "That was the whole point. It's over."

"We both know it's not. We both know it's never going to be over. We're always going to be a target, you and me both. Targets. And anyone we care about." She was raising her voice. She tried not to. She took a breath. Like yoga class...in...out.

"Fucking no! I don't want that. This is exactly...I was supposed to protect you and...you have to be safe. You *have* to be safe."

"I'm never going to be safe, Tony!" she yelled it. He lept back. She closed her eyes and breathed, again. Was she imagining a glow fading, or was that real? Was she hot? She opened her eyes, but couldn't look at him, in case he was afraid.

"Pepper. No. I am going to make it right." Tony didn't sound afraid. He was pleading. Pepper's heart cracked.

"Tony...you...you can't. Not really." She swallowed. "I know you'll always try. And I love you so much for that." She ventured a glance at him and he was looking at her all eyes the way he sometimes did. She slid into his arms.

"I did it all for you. Everything I tried to do. It was all for you," he said. He was definitely drunk, now. Even on his way to sloppy drunk, which was quite a feat, for him. It scared her.

"No. You didn't, Tony. You did it for me and for yourself and for Happy and Rhodey and for your company and for a nation full of frightened people. And that's okay. It's really okay. I don't have to be your only reason. I know I'm important without that."

"Need you," he said, brokenly.

"Let's go to bed," she said.

"It's still kind of early for bed," he protested.

"So? We won't sleep, then. Come on."

He was wrapped around her and kissing her neck and generally impeding their progress on the way to the bedroom, but as soon as he slid out of his jeans and into bed, he passed out. She sat in bed next to his prone, snoring form and watched her hand. She wondered if she could make it hot, too hot, by thinking about it.

She was afraid to try.

She laid down by Tony and stared into the darkness until she fell asleep.

* * *

Bruce woke early, and took a few minutes to figure out where he was. He had slept through a long, groggy night with strange dreams, the edges of which receded as he swam up to consciousness. When he remembered he was in Tony and Pepper's guest room, his stomach did a somersault. He had been so tired the night before, exhausted to the point of his eyes burning, so he had practically pushed Pepper out of his room when she had been trying to talk to him.

Shit. He wondered what that had been about.

He sat up and tried to even his breathing. He sat quietly in bed for a while, concentrating on the inhales and exhales. He did this till the butterflies in his stomach settled. He used to talk to Jarvis, sometimes, while he was going through his morning routine. He wondered if the AI had moved here with them. A sudden thought chilled him: had the servers been in the house when it went off the cliff?

"Jarvis?" he said, softly into the air.

Bruce got no reply. He frowned. He would ask Tony about it, later. He tried not to worry about the AI when he'd no doubt have an answer, soon.

He got up and made the bed, took a shower and quietly crept to the kitchen to see if he could make coffee and maybe start breakfast for Tony and Pepper who he assumed would still be asleep. Tony, as it turned out, was sitting at the sweeping kitchen counter, mug of coffee already in hand, manipulating a diagram on a tablet in front of him.

"Oh, hey," said Bruce. He froze in the doorway and took his glasses off to clean them.

"Morning, Hunka Green, how did you sleep?" Tony looked up from his tablet and gave Bruce a winning smile. There was something forced about it. A distance that hadn't been there the night before.

"I slept okay, I guess. Thanks for....thanks," said Bruce. "I wanted to ask you. I know you probably told me yesterday, when I fell asleep, but is Jarvis...okay? I mean, I wasn't sure where his actual server lives."

Tony pressed something on the tablet. "Bruce is asking after you, Jarvis," he said, to the air. "He was worried about what happened to you."

"I'm well, Doctor Banner, thank you. I'm glad to observe you back among friends," said Jarvis, his voice emanating from the tablet speaker.

"I'm glad you're all right," said Bruce, real relief washing through him.

"Indeed. Like Col. Rhodes, Pepper and Sir, I had an eventful week, but all my code bases and memory banks remain intact."

"Jarvis got to drive the suit," said Tony.

"Oh? Were you...Was it because you were..." Bruce didn't want to give name to any of the ways Tony could've been taken off the playing field, so he stayed silent.

"We had them all out at once," said Tony.

Bruce's eyebrows shot up. "How many was all?"

"Oh, at the time it was...what, J, 35?"

"Approximately, sir."

Bruce nearly asked what happened, but Tony had told him the story already when he had fallen asleep. Then he remembered that Jim had said Tony blew his suits up. He bit his tongue.

"I was on the other side of the country. Found Pepper off the coast of Miami. Also, Rhodey rescued the president," Tony waved his hand vaguely in the air. "I told this better yesterday."

Bruce shifted, uncomfortably, "Sorry," he said to Tony. "I'm glad to hear your voice again, Jarvis."

"Likewise, Doctor Banner," said the AI.

"You know, if you had kept your tablet, you'd have been able to keep in touch with him while you were gone," said Tony, reproachfully. "I can't even give it back to you. It's still in New York."

"I'm pretty sure I forfeited all rights to anything in New York when I..."

"Ran away? Fled? Took your ball and went home?" Tony asked, archly.

Bruce cleared his throat and looked down. He kept his voice low. "Pretty sure I was running away from home, actually."  

Tony looked up at him, his sardonic smile slipping. He looked at Bruce with a twist of his mouth that bespoke pain. It seemed like he was about to say something, but Pepper wandered in at that moment, breaking through the bubble of tension that had suddenly arisen. She was still in pajamas, her hair a mess. "Oh, my god, is that coffee?"

She kissed Tony on the cheek and slipped around Bruce to go to the coffee maker.

"Bruce? Have you had any, yet?" she asked, getting down a mug for herself.

"What are the odds that's decaf?"

"About one in a googleplex," said Tony. When Bruce looked at him, his camera-ready grin was back in place.

Bruce chuckled. "Is there any tea?"

"Yes," said Pepper. "I made sure to get some." She pulled out a stovetop kettle and started the heat.

Bruce shuffled forwards. "You don't have to do that...I can..."

She cut him off with a gesture and a smile. "Please! You're our guest. You don't have to work while you're here."

"But I was going to offer to make breakfast," said Bruce.

"Quick, Pepper," said Tony. "Think of a way to take back what you just said."

She gave Tony a look, then turned to Bruce with a smile. "I think that's a vote in favor of you cooking."  

He walked over to the fridge. "Please let me. It's the least I can do." He opened the fridge and looked at its contents. "Okay. You have nothing."

"That's not true. I can see stuff in there," Tony protested.

"It's like fifty condiments, two bottles of white wine and some wilted salad in a bag."

"Oh. that's mine," said Pepper, embarrassed.

"I'll go get donuts," Tony declared.

"How have either of you lived this long?" Bruce asked, giving them an amused and bewildered look.

"I usually just grab something on my way to work," said Pepper. "Or get someone to bring me something."

"It turns out there are lots of people who will just bring you food if you call and ask them and pay them to do it," Tony added.

"And we had a cook come in three days a week in the mansion, but he quit after Tony threatened a terrorist," said Pepper.

"You have to give him credit for wise life decisions," said Tony.

"I gave him more credit than I gave you," said Pepper, rolling her eyes at Tony.

"We're not on this again, are we? I said I'm sorry," said Tony.

"It's not 'again', it's 'still'," said Pepper, hotly. "You can't really expect me to just move on from..."

Bruce was increasingly uncomfortable. He edged out of the kitchen and left them to bicker. He slid into real clothes and snuck out to see if he could find a grocery store. By the time he got back, Tony wasn't there anymore, and Pepper was sitting at the stool where he had been, typing away at her laptop and dressed in a crisp suit.

"You're back! Tony took off," she said. "He's going to visit Happy in the hospital and run some errands."

"Oh," said Bruce. "I got food." He put down all his well-laden bags on the counter. "I can make dinner, I guess."

"If you had waited, I could've sent a car out with you," she said. "I'm happy to do that."

"I don't mind walking," said Bruce.

She watched him quietly, for a moment, as he put food away. "He was upset you had taken off without saying anything," she said, finally.

Bruce stopped and looked down at the empty bag he was holding, then up at Pepper. He felt bad, but he hadn't wanted to be in the middle of a fight. "I'm sorry," he said.

"It's all right. I understand. Things are...pretty emotional between us right now. I'm sorry. That can't be too comfortable." She looked at him, and sighed.

"I'm...sorry if I made things harder for the two of you," he said. He paused in putting things away to look at her.

Pepper shook her head. "This morning things were already strained."

Bruce swallowed and looked down at his hands. "I meant...before."

She looked at him. "Bruce...I have to tell you something. Tony is nervous about me telling you, but I think it's important."

He looked at her, a wave of icy apprehension in his gut.

"It's nothing bad," she said. Her face was tight - a mask of calm framed by her smooth hair and crisp skirt and jacket -- like her own suit of armor. "At least, I hope not."

He raised his eyebrows, and regarded her, waiting for her to continue.

"Bruce, You...Tony..." She took a breath and paused. Her inability to speak smoothly about whatever-it-was disconcerted Bruce more than he'd like to say. He'd never seen her at this kind of loss for words, before.

Pepper tried again. "So. We're not that normal, Tony and I. I mean. Obviously, Tony's not normal, but I've never really managed it either, or we wouldn't have lasted this long."

Bruce just kept watching her. She looked at him expectantly. He nodded, slowly.

"And I want you to know, more than anything else, your happiness and friendship are important to us...to me. Whatever happens, I want to keep being your friend if you want to keep being mine."

"Pepper, please. You're...please just say whatever it is."

Bruce's voice sounded hoarse and distant to his own ears.

"Tony and I want to date you."

Bruce blinked at her. Whatever he'd been expecting, this wasn't really in the ballpark. "What?"

"Both of us," she said, firmly. "Tony wasn't straying when he kissed you. He had my permission. Only his timing was bad. We had both been working up to telling you for weeks. We'd been putting you off because we thought you'd freak out. I think it was a mistake to put off telling you. Tony is still not sure about having this conversation. It's part of the reason he's not here, right now."

Bruce shook his head, slowly. This...didn't make sense. Except it did. It certainly explained a lot about Tony's behavior, especially. "So...why are you telling me now?"

"Two reasons," she said. "First of all, because not telling you didn't keep you from freaking out and bolting. Secondly, because I had a near-death experience, and while it wasn't my first, it was my most intense and awful one, yet, and honestly, I'm not sure how many second chances I'm going to get, particularly with the life I lead.

"Usually, I'm the one who lays long-term plans. Tony's the direct one. Well, I just...I can't do that anymore, not with this. I think it's cards on the table time and these are my cards. I really, really like you, Bruce. So does Tony. We like having you around, we think you're sexy. We've discussed it at length. You're emotionally compatible with our madhouse relationship, most of the time, anyway, and you can keep up with Tony intellectually like nothing I've ever seen. We're not going to press anything on you, and we're willing to entertain the notion of you dating one or the other of us if you're not interested in both of us." She paused for breath and to look at his face. Bruce wasn't even sure what emotion it was displaying, at this point. He felt like a deer in headlights.

Pepper continued, "I know it's not usual, but I really hope you consider dating us both. I think...I feel as though this could be a good thing for all of us. But I'll understand if you don't want to try it. And we'll stay your friends, no matter what." She fell silent and stared at him.

"Is that all?" he asked, and suppressed a wave of hysterical laughter bubble up inside him, because really, it was plenty.

"Yes," she said. "That's my whole hand."

"Tony put you up to this."

"Yes he did, initially, but that doesn't mean I'm any less up for it," she said.

Bruce shook his head. "You're both crazy. I can't date. I'm a monster."

She grinned.

"Why are you smiling? It's not a joke!" he said, the hysteria from the laughter he'd swallowed creeping into his voice.

"Because I kind of expected you to start with, 'You're crazy, I'm not going to date a guy,' or 'You're both crazy, I can't date a couple.' Instead you went straight to the reasons you aren't a good person to be dating, which means you're going to think about it. We just skipped most of the parts of the conversation I was most worried about."

Bruce sputtered.

"Look," she said. "Hulk may be a monster. Tony doesn't think so, but it's clear to me that other people do, and Tony's viewpoints on issues like that are often...on the edge of the bell-curve. But you are clearly not one. There may be unique challenges to certain aspects of relationships in your case. I already know that it's no picnic dating a superhero. You don't have to give me the disclaimers. The only questions you have to answer are: Is this something you want and whether you want it now or not. The rest, I promise you, we can work out between us." She paused and bit her lip. "And you don't have to answer them now. I'm going to...I need to go to work, anyway. I am begging you: think about it. And there's no pressure at all, so there's absolutely no reason to pack up and run while I'm gone."

Bruce nodded. She looked concerned as she stood. He found his voice. "Why didn't Tony think you should tell me?" he asked, quietly.

"Because he thinks you already made your views on dating him clear in the wake of the kiss he gave you," she said. "He thinks you ran because you don't want him. He thinks telling you is going to make you take off again."

Bruce gave her a pained look. "I...why?"

She dropped her eyes to the counter between them and went still. "One thing you've got to understand about Tony if you even think about going through with this is: he's always waiting for people to abandon him."

The words were like a knife in Bruce's flesh. His mouth twisted. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "I'm sorry. I never meant to...I was trying to protect...both of you."

"I know you were, Bruce. And that, more than anything, is why I think this might work," she said, simply. She stood and started packing her laptop.

"Pepper?" Bruce asked. She paused and turned back to look at him, hand on the door. "For what it's worth I am sorry...for leaving."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Bruce. I accept your apology, for myself..."

"I should apologize to Tony?" he said.

"I think you should." And she was gone.

* * *

Bruce thought to himself. He got dinner prepped and stuck it in the fridge. He could just reheat it when Tony and Pepper came back. He blew a long, slow breath out between pursed lips. He was going to need to talk to them when they did. He thought about what James had said the day before and what Pepper said that morning. He knew he couldn't make himself run away from them, again, even if it was the safest thing for everyone.

He wasn't sure what he wanted, or what he could actually promise, but he wanted to stay.

Consciously, Bruce regulated his breathing as he thought: slow breaths...in...out.

He didn't have all the answers but he could, at least, apologize to Tony. Why not? He owed him that much.

He found the tablet Tony had been playing with earlier. He woke it up and addressed it, directly. "Jarvis. Are you there?"

"Yes, Doctor Banner. How are you?"

"A little shaky, actually, Jarvis."

"Do you need medical attention?" The AI asked in concern.

"No...No...but...you can help me. Do you know where Tony is?"

"Yes, Doctor, but..."

Bruce cut Jarvis off in his eagerness. "Can you help me get there?"

* * *

Tony had run around to various offices and by the house, trying to see where the cleanup progress was and urging things along. He did a walkthrough of Stark Industries' R&D, which was the sort of thing Pepper was always urging him to do, but which he usually slithered out of doing.

He felt like he could barely hear all the sucking up people were doing around him. He smiled and nodded and handwaved his way through several impromptu presentations. Eventually, he gave it up as a bad job and went back out to his car and sat in it.

Bruce had just taken off. A few voices got raised and he disappeared again. Maybe not to the next state, (Pepper had called him to tell him Bruce had come back, with groceries and seriously...walking? In L.A.?) but still. Tony sighed. He couldn't deal with this. Someone who just took off every time things got a little intense? His whole fucking life was random peaks of intensity! Why the fuck did the guy have to be so infuriating and interesting? Why couldn't he have been as boring as the suck-up science drones back in R & D?

Tony huffed and threw his head back against the seat. He viciously turned the key in the ignition, savagely depressing the clutch and slamming the car into first, then second gear with wild abandon as he sped out of the parking lot.

He went shopping. First he went and bought Pepper some new shoes and a clip-thing for her hair. He couldn't remember if she actually wore hair clips but this one was pretty and dainty and crusted with shiny things. It reminded him of her, so he bought it.

His mind drifted to Bruce's bag that might as well have been empty. Thinking about it made him angry, again. He went to Rodeo to a menswear place he frequented for his own clothes and stormed in. He fixed the sales staff with a steely gaze and said, "I need a full wardrobe for a guy about my size. He's tiny bit shorter and a tiny bit rounder. It's a surprise and I need to walk out with as much of it as possible, today."

He slapped his AmEx Black onto the counter and watched in grim satisfaction as the the sales attendants hopped to work. He had the works - shirts, slacks, jeans, socks, underwear, sweaters, a jacket, a suit and three pairs of shoes plus random accessories - piled into the trunk of his car in less than an hour, all slick as hell in colors that would suit Bruce.

That would fucking show him.

He drove to the hospital to check on Happy.

His security people were on the job, alert and checking everyone's ID against the list. Tony went in to slump in one of the horrible institutional metal-and-pleather chairs and stare at Hogan's pale face.

He'd been watching his chest rise and fall for quite a while - maybe twenty minutes...maybe an hour - he hadn't really been paying attention - when a ruckus arose outside.

He poked his head out to lecture the security guys when he saw the cause of the ruckus. Bruce was arguing fervently with the two taller men, a determined look on his face.

"What's going on here?" Tony asked. "Bruce, what are you doing?"

"You know this guy?" one of the security team asked.

"Yeah," Tony nodded. He stepped all the way out. "Bruce, how did you even...?"

"Jarvis," said Bruce, simply. "I really need to talk to you."

"Well, great. Fine. When I really needed to talk to you, yesterday, you fell asleep. Then I thought I might get to talk to you today and you left. Again."

"I came here to apologize," said Bruce, quietly.

"For falling asleep, or for leaving?" Tony's arms folded over his chest.

Bruce's eyes flicked to the hired muscle who were now flanking Tony. "Can we not have this conversation, here?"

Tony felt his face tighten. "Fine," he said. "But we're also not fucking having this conversation in there while the latest friend whose life I thoroughly screwed up is laying there in a coma. You sit out here and you wait. I'll be out in a while."

Bruce actually relaxed and nodded and sat quietly in a chair by the nurse's station. Tony went back in and fumed for a little bit. Then he realized his sitting by Happy and fuming about Bruce maybe wasn't much more respectful or helpful than Tony and Bruce having an argument in here while Happy slept.

He leaned over his friend. "I'll be back again, tomorrow, Hogan. You'd better be here when I come." Then he went out to collect Bruce.

Bruce was quiet as they drove towards the condo. Tony kept looking over at him and the man was looking down at his hands and fidgeting with his cuffs.

"I thought you came to find me to talk," said Tony, eventually.

"I came to apologize. I just..." he looked over at Tony, who kept his eyes firmly on the road. "Tony, I'm sorry. For leaving."

"Whatever. I know we were fighting and I get how that kind of tension might not be great for you to be around, what with the rage monster thing and all."

Bruce was quiet for a moment, watching the buildings roll by. "I meant before. I meant I'm sorry for just leaving after you kissed me."

Tony came to a stoplight. In spite of his better judgement, he looked over at Bruce and saw the earnestness and fear in his face. Then his phone rang. He thought about ignoring it, but the phone was playing 'You Shook Me All Night Long'."

"Sorry," he said to Bruce. "It's Pepper." He answered it. Through the speaker, there was shrieking and the sounds of gunshots.

He could hear her voice call out. "Tony! Help!"

More gunshots and indeterminate shouting. Then the line went dead. Tony's hands were wrapped around the steering wheel so very tightly, he'd probably have been in pain if it weren't for the surge of adrenaline. When the light turned green he peeled out so quickly he burned rubber on the road. He punched a button on the console of the car. He was barely even aware Bruce was still in the car. He could hear his heaving breaths off to his right.

"Jarvis. Get her location."

"Her phone is dead, sir," the AI responded. "I'm not finding its signal at all."

"What's her last known location?" Tony said, shortly.

"She was exiting the Stark Industries building." Tony headed there.

On a hunch he said, "Check for extremis heat signatures."

There was a quiet moment while Jarvis calculated. "I have a lock on something that fits the parameters. If it's Ms. Potts, she's headed North on back streets. I can bring up a tracker."

Tony's phone lit up with a map with a red dot on it.

"Bruce, can you navigate for me?" Bruce didn't answer. "Bruce, what the fuck? I need your help." Tony eased off the throttle and glanced over. Bruce was taking heaving, open-mouthed breaths like he was going to be seasick. His skin was tinged with green. "Shit. Okay. Okay. You gotta stay with me, Bruce. Stay with me. I'm going to get us there. Then it might be time to let the big guy out to play."

"Tony..." he gasped through gritted teeth. His voice was wrong...too deep. "I'm trying. Just...drive."

Tony swallowed and drove, getting Jarvis to navigate, so Bruce could concentrate.

They were peeling through residential streets and past decaying strip malls in a less-than pleasant area when they caught up with the unmarked truck.

"Jarvis? Is she in the back of there? Because I'm going to fucking kill someone if she's in the back of that truck," said Tony.

"I'm afraid so, sir." The AI reported. "I'm also afraid we'll be spotted, soon. This car isn't the height of subtlety."

"We have to stop that truck," said Tony. "Maybe I can get ahead of it and..."

"Put the top down," growled Bruce.

"Whoa...big guy. I don't know if..."

"Put the top down or the other guy is gonna rip through it."

Tony hit the button that caused the top of the convertible to fold back. Wind whipped into the car as they kept on the tail of the truck Bruce had already unbuckled his seatbelt. Then he was standing in the convertible seat and leapt forward, finishing the change in mid air, so that when he landed, he landed with force so great on the tail end of the truck that it scraped against the pavement, letting off sparks.

He roared. As Tony watched with horror, the Hulk punched through the top of the armored truck like it was paper. He punched again to widen the hole.

He pulled Pepper out of the back. She looked like a glowing ember. Hulk roared at the pain and dropped her in, again. Tony could feel a shout being ripped from his throat at the sight, but it was lost in the noises the Hulk was making. Hulk moved forward to the cab of the van. Tony couldn't see exactly what he was doing, but he heard more great metallic blows. Then there was a burst of automatic weapons fire.

Pepper, body still red with heat, jumped up out of the hole Hulk had made. Tony watched in fear and not a little awe as she pounced forward where the Hulk's mighty green form had disappeared, presumably now making trouble on the cab of the truck. There was a huge roar and Hulk jumped off to one side, clutching his own arm. The force was enough to throw the truck off-balance. Tony's brain locked up as he watched it careen to the left and right, unable to see anything but glimpses of what was going on at the front of the vehicle. There was the sound of screeching tires and more discharge of weapons.

There was a sound like thunder and another roar. Coming up on the left, and passing the car with swift bounds, the Hulk made his displeasure known. Then he ran alongside the truck and leapt at it. The whole big rig tipped over and crashed sideways on the road with horrifying inevitability. Tony felt as though he was watching it in slow motion. He stomped on the brakes.

The giant truck tipped over, sending Pepper flying to the right. Hulk jumped after her. The truck skidded a little way along the road, giving off sparks as the momentum died. Pepper stood back up.

Tony's relief at seeing her stand was short-lived. The Hulk was facing her, now, stamping warily sideways around her and growling. She was still lit up like a branding iron, shoulders heaving up and down as she faced him with a face of wild fury. A guy rose up out of the broken driver's-side window of the cab of the truck, one eye swollen shut and blood staining his hairline and clothes. He was holding a kalashnikov. Tony tried to shout, tried to run. He couldn't do either one fast enough. He saw the guy bring the gun to bear. He fired and hit Pepper square in the chest. She fell.

Tony screamed and got himself disentangled from the seat belt. Hulk spun and leapt at the guy and threw him a fair distance before Tony could even start sprinting towards Pepper. She was already standing back up, though. She was fine. Extremis was working on her and she was fine. His feet were still taking him that direction, even though he saw the bullet holes reform in fire and ash. He was reaching out for her when he was caught by a large, green arm.

"No touch. Hot," said Hulk matter-of-factly. Tony took a deep breath. He was not already dead, so odds were good the Hulk didn't intend him any harm. He tried to twist around and look at the big guy.

"Okay. Okay," Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You can put me down."

He felt himself being carefully lowered to the ground. He was feeling shaky on his feet, but managed to stay standing. He opened his eyes again. Pepper was her normal color again and looking around in horror.

"She's safe. She's safe now," he absently patted the Hulk on the arm as he took shaky steps towards her.

"Tony?" she said. She seemed on the verge of crying. "Am I? What did I do?"

"Less than half of the damage you see here," he rushed forward and folded her in his arms. "I've got you. I've got you. It's okay. You're safe." He pulled back to look at her, only to see her face tilted upwards, full of fear. "Oh, uh...yeah. I brought uh...help."

"Is that...?" She extended a hand.

"It's the Hulk," said Tony. He heard distant sirens just before he and Pepper together were scooped up in mighty green arms and carried off with mighty leaps that were like flying.

"Where are we going?" Pepper asked as the lights of the urban sprawl receded into the distance behind Hulk's back.

"Search me, but I hope it has booze," he said.

When Hulk finally put them gently down and fell to the ground beside them, though, there was nothing but scrub and rocks as far as the eye could see by the light of the sun sinking over the horizon.

The Hulk was rapidly shrinking and turning pink. Pepper's eyes were wide as the form shrank to reveal Bruce, left with nothing but the tatters of his pants. Bruce looked up at them.

"Where are we?" he croaked.

"No idea, big guy. You're the one who brought us here," said Tony.

"Fuck," he said. Bruce blinked and pushed himself halfway up and looked around. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, as though he were about to share a more complex reaction to the news that they were in the middle of nowhere, but instead, he fell back to the ground and fell asleep.

Tony spent the next three hours trying to get cell signal with only the objects he had had on his person while Pepper, draped in his sport jacket, huddled up to the prone form of Bruce for warmth against the desert night.


	8. Appetency, Apologia, and Osculation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our intrepid trio spends the night in the desert. Who will come rescue them? And how will they deal with the aftermath of both the kidnapping/fight and of having been stranded?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to RedheadScientist for concrit.

It got cold in the desert at night. Tony eventually gave up fiddling with the cell phone and some bits of wire he had found and walked in tight circles, then did jumping-jacks to try to keep his circulation going. Eventually, he gave that up, too, and laid down on the side of Pepper that wasn't occupied by Bruce. His mind was racing. They were going to need water and some way to contact the outside world. The best thing to do might honestly be for Bruce to Hulk out, again, and carry them back west till they were on the outskirts of civilization, or at least close enough to get a cell signal, but Tony wasn't sure what another Hulk-out would take out of Bruce and wasn't sure the Hulk would be open to direction, even if Bruce was up for it.  
  
He thought he wouldn't be able to get to sleep, between the cold and the situation, but, mind still racing, he fell into an uncomfortable doze. Dreaming, he had realized that if he wanted water he would have to dig for it. He was digging and digging, dirt under his hands when a strange noise invaded the dream.  
  
"It's okay," he told the other two, "The ocean is coming to us."  
  
Dream-Bruce shook his head. "That won't help. We can't drink it."  
  
The noise was getting louder. Tony woke up, looking at the half-light of the pre-dawn sky. Suddenly, something flashed overhead through the sky, too fast to be a bird, too low to be a jet. Tony sat up and tried to get a better look at it. Whatever it was doubled-back. It was man-sized and painted in bright red, white and blue. Tony let out a whoop and jumped to his feet, waving his arms.  
  
Rhodey opened his helmet, "Man, you didn't have to come out here to avoid me, you could've just canceled dinner."  
  
Tony was laughing. "You're beautiful, man. Have I ever told you that?"  
  
Rhodey snorted. "Sure. Right. Here." He handed Tony a bag he'd had slung across the metal torso of the suit. Tony opened it to find food, water, some clothes and a first aid kit. "I wasn't sure what kind of shape you'd be in, so I brought everything I could grab in a hurry."  
  
"Oh, my god. Come over and join the party," said Tony. Pepper was already standing up, sliding Tony's jacket on over the tattered remains of her clothing. Bruce was still on the ground in what was left of his, blinking blearily. Tony offered him a hand up.  
  
"How did you find us?" Pepper asked.  
  
"Well, I showed up for dinner and you weren't there. At first I was just annoyed and I called Tony, but he didn't pick up. That didn't surprise me, but then I called you and you didn't pick up, either, and then I started to worry."  
  
"Aww, about me, cheesecake?" said Tony. "I could just kiss you."  
  
Rhodey rolled his eyes. "Then I called Jarvis. He led me to your car. When I got to it, there were already people there. That hot red-head who used to be your assistant and some blond guy with a fucking bow and arrow."  
  
"They didn't come with?" Tony asked.  
  
"They're on their way here with a jeep," he said. "I didn't like the idea of flying you all back."  
  
"Oh, thank god," murmured Bruce, tension abruptly going out of him.  
  
Rhodey reached out a hand to pull him up. "So you're the Hulk, huh?"  
  
"Uh," Bruce looked panicked, then sheepish. "Yeah. Or, well, I turn into him."  
  
"Next time tell a guy that before you get in his car, man."  
  
Bruce seemed nonplussed by Rhodey's relatively calm reaction. "Yeah. Sure. Sorry."  
  
"So what happened to you three?" Rhodey asked.  
  
Bruce just shrugged. Tony told the story with a certain amount of relish, ignoring Bruce's cringing and the soft look on Pepper's face when he described Bruce's transformation and what had caused it.  
  
"Do you know who they were?" Rhodey asked Pepper. She shook her head.  
  
"They knew who I was, though. They had me suspended in some kind of fire-proof rig till the Hulk busted me out of it," she said. "I assume they were people from AIM."  
  
Tony gritted his teeth.  
  
"Seems likely," said Rhodey.  
  
Bruce looked like he was going to fall over where he stood. "Did you know how far Natasha and Clint were behind you, Colonel..I mean Jim?"  
  
"Maybe half an hour," said Rhodey, "Maybe a little longer. They said they had to clean something up and then they were mostly taking roads where I could go as the crow flies." He looked at Tony. "By the way the redhead...Natasha? Are she and that guy a thing, because..."  
  
"Oh no. No no way, Rhodey," he said. "Dating the Black Widow - bad idea."  
  
"Why?" said Pepper, archly. "Just because you're afraid of her?"  
  
"Yes," said Tony matter-of-factly.  
  
"I can see if she'd be open to it, Jim," Pepper volunteered, slipping the bag away from Tony. She fished sweatpants and a t-shirt out of it and tossed them to Bruce and got into a similar set, herself.  
  
"Nah. I've got a feeling she wouldn't respect a guy who couldn't ask for himself," Rhodey said.  
  
"Your funeral," said Tony.  
  
Bruce ripped open a protein bar Pepper gave him and inhaled it in about three seconds while she took a sip of water. When he looked like he was considering licking the wrapper, she traded him a packet of granola for it, tucking the trash into the bag.  
  
"They're almost here," reported Rhodey just as a jeep emerged over the horizon.  
  
Pepper was pulling her hair back into a ponytail, looking amazingly coiffed, considering where she had spent the night. That was the poise that always amazed Tony. He wrapped arms around her. "I love you," he said.  
  
"I know," she kissed him on the nose.  
  
"Oh, god. Someone shoot me," said Rhodey. "I can't take the cute."  
  
"Don't say that around these two, they might take you seriously," said Tony as Natasha and Clint pulled up.  
  
Natasha vaulted the side of the Jeep and stalked over. "I'd have thought the events of last week would teach you to call for backup when you get into trouble, Stark."  
  
"I had Bruce," he said.  
  
"Yeah, and if you'd called us, too, you could've slept in a bed, last night," she said.  
  
"Okay. Fair point," Tony agreed.  
  
Clint snorted at how quick he was to crumble in the face of Natasha's logic. Tony shot him a dirty look.  
  
"All right, let's pack up and head back to civilization," said Natasha.  
  
"What happened to my car?" Tony asked.  
  
"Shield was going over it for evidence," said Clint. "They're probably done by now. I bet it's back in your garage."  
  
"They better not have dinged it," said Tony.  
  
"See you back there," said Rhodey, and took off.  
  
"He likes you, you know," said Tony to Natasha.  
  
"Yes," she said, looking at him, levelly.  
  
"You gonna do anything about it?" Tony asked.  
  
"That's none of your business, Tony," Pepper admonished.  
  
"It is if she's fucking with my friend's head," he said.  
  
Clint snorted again. "His head won't be the only thing she's fucking with."  
  
"Get in the car, Stark. You can give me the shovel talk on the way back to town," said Natasha, with a smile quirking one side of her mouth.  
  
Clint was helping Bruce in and handing him a gatorade. Pepper and Tony clambered in after him. Tony yammered the entire way back, as Natasha humored him, only rolling her eyes once every ten minutes or so and Clint laughed openly at his threats.  
  
"Thanks for rescuing us, by the way," said Pepper, pointedly, as they neared the building where they were staying.  
  
"Oh, Yeah," said Tony. "Thanks."  
  
"Well, Rhodey insisted," said Clint.  
  
"Yeah, and we like Pepper and Bruce," added Natasha.  
  
"Oh, sure, dump on the genius. You need me. Plus, I'm a delight," said Tony.  
  
"You're all right," said Clint, noncommittally. He grinned.  
  
Natasha just smiled her half-smile.  
  
By the time they made it back to the apartment, the sun was high and the day was hot.  
  
When they had helped Bruce into the apartment and into bed, Pepper retreated to take a shower. Tony turned to the two agents. "You two staying for dinner?"  
  
"Nah, we have shit to do," said Clint.  
  
"Like what?" Tony asked.  
  
"Finding out who sent the thugs who kidnapped Pepper," he said.  
  
Tony's eyes narrowed. "That's my job."  
  
Natasha smacked him on the back of the head. "Teamwork," she said. "We'll call you when we know something, Stark."  
  
"Yeah," said Clint. "What are you going to do without your suit, anyway?"  
  
"Freeze their bank accounts? Hack into their private servers? Re-key all their electronic locks?" he said.  
  
"We'll call you when we need you," Natasha reiterated.  
  
"You're like the little sister I never wanted," he responded.  
  
All he heard was Clint snorting one last time as they went out.  
  
An awkward silence followed in its wake. Pepper gave Tony a look full of meaning and then looked at Bruce, who was staring at the floor with a great deal more focus than the tile warranted.  
  
* * *  
  
"We should eat," said Pepper, finally. "Shower, get dressed, eat."  
  
Bruce nodded without looking up at her. He turned to go to the guest room they'd put him in, then he turned back and forced himself to look.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said.  
  
She looked at him with sorrow writ on her face.  
  
"Sorry for stranding us out there," he added.  
  
Pepper took a step towards him. He stiffened. Her anxious look deepened.  
  
"Bruce, you saved me," she said, quietly. "Thank you."  
  
"Yeah. Thank you," said Tony, surging forward, ignoring Bruce's tension to sweep him into a hug. He didn't drag it out, but thumped Bruce on the back a few times and pulled away, before Bruce had even managed to react. Pepper stepped forward and hugged him more slowly, giving him time to step away, if he wanted. He let her.  
  
Bruce took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her before she let him go. "Still...sorry I..."  
  
Tony cut him off with a forestalling hand raised in Bruce's direction. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, no," he insisted. "You've done enough apologizing for today. Maybe for even longer. Anyway, we're fine. It's good to have friends."  
  
"Yeah," Bruce took a shaky breath. "Yeah, it's good."  
  
He pulled himself away and went to the guest room, trying to ignore the feeling that Tony's eyes were lasering into his back.  
  
He showered and stood looking at his diminishing supply of clothes. Maybe he could just skip the getting dressed and go straight to bed. He was exhausted, still, from the Hulk-out. On the other hand, Pepper had said food. He was also still ravenous. He sighed and slid into his last pair of pants and one of three remaining shirts.  
  
Bruce walked softly back into the living room. "Any chance you know where there's a thrift store?" he asked Pepper, who had gotten into cutoffs and a t-shirt. Her hair was still wet, but pulled neatly back. She was pulling boxes out of a large bag from some kind of delivery place.  
  
"Hm...nope, can't say I do, but I can find out. I got Chinese, Mexican and from this California cuisine place that one of my assistants has been recommending," she told him, pointing to the stacks in turn.  
  
"How did you even..." Bruce asked her, bewildered.  
  
"I always wonder the same thing," said Tony's voice from behind him.  
  
If Bruce had been less exhausted, he'd have given a startled jump. Instead he turned. "Hey, is there a way I can ask Jarvis something?" he asked Tony.  
  
"Sure," Tony handed over the tablet he was carrying and went to kiss Pepper and fill up a plate with a random subset of the makeshift buffet.  
  
"Hey, Jarvis," said Bruce.  
  
"Hello, Doctor Banner. I'm glad you were located. Colonel Rhodes was quite concerned."  
  
"Not about me, I'm sure."  
  
"About all of you, as was I."  
  
"Thanks, Jarvis," said Bruce, quietly.  
  
"What for?"  
  
"For worrying about me," he said. "I don't think many people do. At least, not about me being missing. I think plenty worry about the other guy."  
  
"I'm uncertain what constitutes 'many', Doctor Banner, but I suspect you are mistaken," said Jarvis.  
  
Bruce was quiet for a while, considering that.  
  
"Did you have something you wanted to ask me, Doctor?" asked Jarvis, interrupting his reverie.  
  
"Oh, right. I need to hit some thrift stores. I'm running out of clothes," said Bruce a little sheepishly.  
  
"Wait, that's what you needed?" Tony asked. "I'll be right back." He put his plate down and charged out of the apartment.  
  
Bruce looked at Pepper, baffled. Pepper shrugged.  
  
"I can print out a list, with maps, since you're currently without your starkphone, Doctor," said Jarvis.  
  
"Thanks," said Bruce. Pepper pressed a full plate into his hand and grabbed the pages of the printer for him as he started on the food. Unsurprisingly, it was excellent.  
  
They munched in silence for a few minutes before Tony came barging back in, arms full of bags and boxes.  
  
"What's all that?" asked Pepper.  
  
"Clothes for Bruce. And some things for you. I went shopping," said Tony.  
  
Bruce looked up from his food, uncomprehendingly, at the stack of packages Tony was putting on the floor next to him. "Tony, I..."  
  
Tony cut him off, waving his hand dismissively. "We all know I'm going to wear you down, eventually. We've had a long night, so let's just skip to the part where you take the clothes, because I can afford them and I already bought them. And then you sneak out to the thrift store later when you think I'm not looking, even though any of these you like, I can just order a couple dozen, in case you Hulk out in them."  
  
Pepper laughed.  
  
"For that matter, we could probably get clothes made specially with tear-away sides or something," Tony continued.  
  
"Wouldn't that just leave him naked?" asked Pepper.  
  
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Tony countered.  
  
Pepper grinned at him, and Bruce began to chuckle. The Tony that had been walking on angry tenterhooks around him, yesterday, seemed to be back to himself. Bruce felt the dynamic of this relationship snap back around him like a rubber band, bringing some of the old familiar sting, but it was tempered with something else - he knew, now, he could have this if he wanted. If he was willing to put Tony and Pepper at risk of being hurt by him and hurt by the world because of him, he could have it. The laughter bubbled up out of a deep well in him and wouldn't stop coming. It bled some of the worry and tension away and left him gasping for air.  
  
"Uh oh, we broke Bruce," said Tony.  
  
"Eat up, Bruce, and then to bed," said Pepper, reaching out as though she wanted to tousle his hair, and instead patting him on the shoulder.  
  
"Yeah. Got to keep your strength up, big guy," said Tony. "Who knows when those guys are gonna try again?"  
  
Pepper frowned at Tony as Bruce got himself under control.  
  
"Do you think they will?" Bruce asked, finally still.  
  
"I'd say as time reaches infinity, the odds they will try again approach unity," said Tony.  
  
"But...tonight?" Bruce asked.  
  
Tony shrugged. Bruce frowned. Pepper wrapped her arms around herself.  
  
"Doesn't matter," said Bruce. "He'll be ready."  
  
"He'll...?" Pepper asked.  
  
"I mean...uh," Bruce looked at her. "Me. I'll be ready. I won't let...nothing's going to happen to you."  
  
He quickly dropped his eyes back to his plate, and started eating fast. He didn't know whether what he said had been the right thing to say, but it was what he was feeling. He didn't want a repeat of yesterday's Hulk-out, but he wasn't going to let anything happen to either of them, if he could help it. He quickly had put away the large plateful and stood up. "I should sleep." He headed for the hallway without looking at Tony or Pepper.  
  
"There'll be leftovers in the fridge, if you're hungry, later," said Pepper.  
  
Bruce turned to face her, but didn't look up from her feet. "Thanks."  
  
He fled to his room. In spite of his unsettled emotions, he had no trouble getting to sleep. There'd be enough time for thinking when he woke.  
  
* * *  
  
Pepper dragged Tony off to take a nap, once they'd eaten something. They didn't talk about anything that had gone on till they were tucked into bed with the shades pulled down against the noonday sun.  
  
Tony wrapped his arm around her from behind, she wriggled back against his chest, relishing the feeling.  
  
"You know...if there's one thing today proves..." she said, softly.  
  
"Mmm?" he responded, sleepily.  
  
"He cares. He cares a lot...what happens to us. What we think."  
  
"Mmmm," said Tony, noncommittally. "At least...to you...what you think."  
  
"Didn't he talk to you, yesterday?" Pepper asked.  
  
"Well, kind of. We got interrupted by the kidnapping of a beautiful damsel," said Tony.  
  
"I'm not a damsel," she said, fondly taking his hand and wrapping his arm tighter around her.  
  
"Yes you are. I'm your knight and you're my damsel," he said.  
  
"I don't need a knight," she said.  
  
"What do you need?" he asked, lips brushing the side of her neck.  
  
"Just...you. I need you, Tony. Just...be here."  
  
Tony hummed and hugged her. He stayed quiet. She could feel his arms holding her close. His breathing soothed her as she drifted to sleep.  
  
When she woke, Tony was, amazingly, still passed out. She tried just to stay still, but was forced to move by an insistently full bladder. Pepper slid out of bed as smoothly and delicately as possible, aided by the fact that Tony had rolled away in his sleep.  
  
When she emerged from the bathroom, she tucked a robe around herself. It was dark. Pepper wasn't sure what time it was, but the world seemed to have a 2am sort of hush. She wandered through the apartment, feeling dreamy and as though she'd slipped out of the normal flow of time. She noticed a light in the kitchen and tiptoed towards it through the preternatural silence.  
  
Bruce was seated at the counter, an open box of food in front of him, and a neat stack of empty containers off to one side.  
  
She moved to throw them away.  
  
"Those are recyclable," he protested. "I'll rinse them out in a bit."  
  
"Okay," she said. She sat across from him on one of the high stools.  
  
He ate, steadily, not quickly. She watched him for a few minutes in silence.  
  
"I'm glad you're getting more to eat. I suspected what you had earlier wasn't enough," she said, into the silence.  
  
"It was enough to get to sleep on. That was what I needed most," he said. "Thank you."  
  
"I'm happy to do it."  
  
She watched him. He glanced up at her self-consciously. He pushed his food aside. "I've been thinking about what you said."  
  
"Oh yes? Which part?"  
  
"The...surprising proposition you made to me yesterday...or whenever that was, now," he said. He ran his fingers through his hair and breathed out slowly.  
  
"What were you thinking about it?" Pepper kept her tone soft and gentle. She was almost afraid to breathe, as though the soft-spoken, rumpled man was a wild animal she could frighten off.  
  
He was quiet, for a moment, then leaned forward. She realized she was actually holding her breath as he lifted his hand to her cheek. His touch was gentle, but solid. She watched as he leaned in further, brushing her lips with his own. The brief touch flooded her with something warm and large and soft and momentous. She was staring at his lips as he backed off a little.  
  
"Are you sure you want...this?" Bruce asked her quietly. She lifted her eyes to meet his.  
  
"Yes," she said. "I know I do."  
  
He was gazing straight at her in a way he almost never did. "I've killed people."  
  
"I've been living with the erstwhile merchant of death," she countered.  
  
"I might kill you," he said. "He...might."  
  
"No. You won't and he won't," she said. "I've met him and seen him and I know you. Neither of you would."  
  
Bruce sighed. "I'd never forgive myself if..." he trailed off, staring at her. "I cause chaos everywhere. I could turn everything upside-down for you, Pepper. I could ruin your life."  
  
Pepper tried to hold it in, she really did, but she just couldn't. Instead she watched his face as the furious peal of laughter escaped from her. Huge, body-shaking, gasping fits of laughter overtook her and wouldn't let go. He had been looking so serious. Now he looked alarmed and a little at sea. He watched her, clearly not sure how to react as she threw her head back and kicked the rungs of the stool and laughed and laughed. He pulled his hand away from her skin, anxiety writ across his face.  
  
She gasped for air as she calmed down, and she looked up at him. She reached out for his hand.  
  
"Bruce, you literally just described my life for the last five years."  He had given up gazing at her sincerely and was gazing at his free hand, instead, as it curled into a fist and relaxed repeatedly on the counter.  
  
She spoke again. "Tony has broken apart the pieces of my life and I've put them back together in ways I never imagined I would more times than I could count, since I've known him," she said, quietly and seriously. "I love him. I can't imagine my life without him...I don't *want* to imagine my life without him."  
  
She squeezed Bruce's hand. He finally looked back up at her face.  
  
"I don't want to imagine life without you, either," she said, quietly. "I've faced all the dangers and complications you're describing. And I'll be facing them whether you're here or not. So: stay. Let me..." she took a deep breath, but didn't get to finish her sentence. He leaned forward and kissed her. This time, with more certainty and force. She raised her hand and slid her fingers into his hair and kept him there, drawing out the kiss. His hand threaded into her hair.  
  
There was a flash of light, followed by clapping and whistling from the doorway. Bruce pulled back, quickly, but Pepper kept her fingers wound in his hair, not letting him go too far.  
  
Tony was there, grinning. "Well, it's about damn time," he said.  
  
"Did you just take a picture?" Pepper asked, incredulous.  
  
"Yup." Tony handed her the tablet.  
  
"But my hair..." Pepper protested. She slid a hand self-consciously over her hair and straightened her bathrobe.  
  
"You look beautiful," said Bruce.  
  
Tony strode over and grabbed Bruce and kissed him, moving deliberately, giving Bruce time to object. He didn't. Pepper snapped their picture while they were kissing.  
  
Their kiss went on a while. Pepper prepared for a jolt of jealousy, but it didn't come. Instead, the big warm thing inside her was thrumming. She felt joyous and full and peaceful.  
  
"So...," Bruce asked. "What now?"  
  
Tony waggled his eyebrows. "I have some suggestions," he said.  
  
"That's something we can talk about," said Pepper, ignoring any and all lascivious implications in Tony's tone.  
  
"Okay," said Bruce.  
  
"We can take our time," said Pepper.  
  
"Screw that, I'm in a rush," said Tony. "I've been very patient!"  
  
Bruce chuckled. "Talking about it seems...wise...good. Good and wise."  
  
"Well, then, let's at least talk about it tomorrow," said Tony, "over dinner."  
  
"You mean..." Bruce took a deep breath, "a date?"  
  
"That is exactly what I mean," said Tony.  
  
"We should head back to bed now, though, maybe," suggested Pepper.  
  
"I'm not tired," whined Tony. "Anyway, I need to hear Bruce say yes. I'm afraid if we don't have a plan, he'll sneak out in the middle of the night."  
  
Pepper looked at Bruce. "You wouldn't do that, would you?"  
  
"I...no," he said, softly.  
  
"He should come sleep with us, tonight," said Tony.  
  
"Mmm, that would be nice," Pepper agreed.  
  
"Also, that way he can't run off, again," said Tony.  
  
"Wait, wait. You want me to come and sleep with you?" Bruce asked.  
  
"Sure. Why Not?" she said.  
  
"Why, afraid for your virtue?" Tony asked.  
  
Bruce chuckled rustily and shook his head. "I'm not afraid of you."  
  
"I resent that. I'm very intimidating," said Tony, yawning. He turned and retreated towards the bedroom.  
  
"Come on, Bruce. Humor me," said Pepper, taking his hand.  
  
Bruce let himself be pulled towards the bedroom. He seemed dazed.  
  
"I keep thinking I'm going to wake up," murmured Bruce.  
  
"You will," she said, pulling him into bed. "And we'll still be here."


	9. Small plates and negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony takes Bruce and Pepper out to a very fancy restaurant to talk about boundaries, but maybe he didn't pick the right venue for such a discussion. Bruce has an epic case of nerves and Pepper is the one who can use her words effectually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to redheadscientist for concrit and commentary.

In all the fantasies Bruce may or may not have had about romance being a possibility in his life, he was never quite as worried about what to wear as he was at this moment.

The waking up had felt warm and natural as Pepper had kissed first Tony, then him before plunging into her morning routine. It had descended into awkwardness as Tony had leapt into his. Bruce didn't know what to do with himself, so he slunk off to the guest room to do his meditation and yoga and by the time he got to breakfast, they were gone. Pepper had left a little paper note.

"See you tonight at 7! We'll pick you up." Then it had her name and a heart. She had left it on paper. He smiled and took it back to tuck it into his astronomy book. He had made breakfast and was sitting at the counter before he noticed Tony had left the tablet - or a tablet, at least. There was a blinking notification icon in the middle of the screen. He touched it and a video message folded out of it. Tony, fixing himself coffee while he spoke.

"Hey, big guy. We're sneaking out while you do your little peacenik hippie woodstock morning stuff because we still have jobs, whereas you are AWOL from yours."

Pepper's laughter sounded in the background. He saw Tony grin up at her and then straighten his tie. "Don't take this as an invitation to sneak off, either. We'll be round for you tonight. Dress to impress, you deserter."

"Tony," admonished Pepper, in the background.

"Well, he is one," Tony said to her. He looked back at the camera. "I'm serious, if you wear any of that thrift store shit tonight, I promise you will never live it down. I know I won't."

Pepper arrived in the frame and kissed Tony's cheek, then looked at the camera. "He means 'we're very much looking forward to seeing you dressed however you like.'"

"No I don't! Come here, wench," Tony made a grab for her and the video cut off.

Bruce found himself grinning. He watched it again, paying attention to the pink of Tony's lips, framed by the signature goatee. And his eyelashes...how had Bruce never noticed how huge Tony's eyes were? But mostly thinking about the kiss...last night's kiss...full of a prurient promise.

He swallowed and shook his head. Thoughts like that were for after a long, serious discussion.

Bruce had a big, empty swath of day ahead of him before the date. An actual date at an actual restaurant which, knowing Tony, would be extravagant and possibly full of paparazzi. He wondered, briefly, what the press would make of him tagging along with Tony and Pepper on an evening of romance.

He pictured headlines in his mind's eye. Then he let it go. His only problem was if it brought Ross down on them and honestly, Tony was probably too powerful to be pushed around by Ross. He didn't care if there were rumors about him in the press. He'd honestly be startled if anyone cared who he was, anyway.

But Tony had said formal dress was expected. He sighed and went to go through the bags Tony had brought in.

It took him a distressingly long time to lay everything out on the bed in the guest room. At this moment, he had more clothes than he had at any time in the previous two decades, even before the Hulk. And they were all out of fabrics that were nice to touch and weren't worn anyplace.

Bruce had no idea which of them would suffice. He went to grab the tablet to ask Jarvis' advice.

"I can search online for current trends, but I have to admit, this isn't my forte, Doctor Banner," the AI said. "I'm not often consulted on the matter of fashion, so I haven't added much to my databases in this area."

"Well, do you know where Tony has made a reservation?"

"I do, but I am enjoined from telling you."

"Why?"

"Sir would like it to be a surprise," said Jarvis.

"Oh, god. I'm going to make a fool of myself."

"I don't consider that a likely eventuality, Doctor Banner. And, frankly, you wouldn't do so any more than Sir has, in the past."

Bruce considered the ways in which Tony had chosen to make a spectacle of himself in the past. "I'm not very comforted by that, Jarvis."

The AI paused before responding, "Nor would I be," he said in a wry voice.

Bruce chuckled.

"Perhaps I can contact additional assistance?," Jarvis offered.

"Like what kind of assistance?" Bruce asked, hesitantly.

"I have several stylists in my database that have worked with Sir over the years," he said.

The notion of letting a stranger in made Bruce anxious and the idea of someone who styled Tony, whatever that meant, intimidated him. "That doesn't sound like...uh...me. Is there someone else... I guess I can't bother Pepper at work...”

"No, sir, but I do have Clinton F. Barton's contact information on file, if a person with whom you have familiarity would make you more comfortable."

Bruce heaved a sigh of relief. "Yes. Good. Call Clint, please, Jarvis."

Clint promised he'd show up as soon as he could. 

Twenty minutes later, Clint knocked on the door, Natasha in tow.

"Uh..." said Bruce looking at them both. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"Nah," said Clint with a smirk and a shrug. "Trust me, you want Natasha on this mission, not me. I've had the same suit for over a decade."

"See, but that's just my speed," protested Bruce as Natasha brushed past him, Clint ambling in his wake.

"Not tonight, it isn't," Natasha informed him. "This is a date, right?"

Bruce hadn't told that to Clint. He swallowed and stammered. "Uh..."

She waved her hand. "Fine, be cagey. We'll just *assume* it is. Where are your clothes?"

Bruce led the way into his bedroom. Natasha looked over the selection of menswear in a variety of earth tones. "Tony bought these?"

"Yeah," said Bruce.

"I'm surprised they aren't flashier," she said.

"I was, too, honestly," admitted Bruce.

"Aww, he liiiikes you," said Clint.

Natasha gave him a sharp look. Clint gave her the same shrug he'd given Bruce, earlier. She turned her attention back to Bruce. "Will any of this make you comfortable?" she asked him, waving a hand over the stuff on the bed.

"I don't think anything will make me comfortable, tonight," he muttered. She smiled at him and picked several pieces off the bed.

"Go try these on," she said, pushing him towards the bathroom. It was so much easier to just do what she said than to try to figure this out alone, so he went.

Natasha and Clint had a quiet conversation while he was changing. He couldn't make out the words, but he was getting the tone. Natasha was annoyed at Clint. Clint was incredulous, defensive and ultimately penitent. It was really hard to believe they weren't actually a couple. He was pretty sure he used to have conversations the same size and shape with Betty. Then again, maybe being partners was really like being a couple, regardless of whether sex ever entered the equation.

Bruce finished getting dressed and peered at himself in the mirror. He tried to pat his hair into some kind of shape, then gave up and opened the door. Natasha eyed him critically. She made a motion indicating that he should spin. He did so, hunching over self-consciously as he did.

"That's pretty good," she said, stepping up to smooth the sweater down over the shirt and to press his back where he was hunched to indicate he should stand up.

"I'd fuck him," Clint agreed.

"Clint" Natasha hissed in his direction. Bruce hunched over again, when he turned away. He tucked his hands deep in his pockets and stared at his feet.

"Aww, but he's all pretty," Clint protested. "I have to let him know."

"You're making him more self-conscious," said Natasha. "Ignore him," she added, to Bruce. "He's being a brat because you're not the only one with a date, tonight."

Bruce looked at her, then at Clint and raised his eyebrows. "I'm not sure whose date you're implying here," he said.

"Hers," said Clint. "What can I say? I'm petty. We were supposed to go play pool." He kicked a booted foot in Natasha's direction, and she sighed, dramatically.

"You can go without me," she said.

"You could've gone out some other night," Clint countered.

"He has to go back to the pentagon, tomorrow."

"Ah," said Bruce. "Jim asked you out?"

"Yes," said Natasha. "Stand up straight," she ordered him, seeming more annoyed, this time as she pressed him into place and vigorously re-smoothed his clothes.

"He seems like a good guy," said Bruce.

"Yes. He does, in spite of his unholy love of Stark," she said.

Bruce laughed, then stopped. "Oh...uh...I'm probably supposed to defend Tony's honor or something, at this point."

"You'll be a very busy man," said Clint.

Natasha snorted. "There," she said. "Don't hunch. Relax your shoulders. Let's do something with your hair." She hauled Bruce out of the room and into Tony and Pepper's room. Bruce started to protest. "They have hair products. You have nothing."

Bruce shut up and let her haul him into their bathroom as Clint ambled in behind him and started fishing through Tony's closet.

Natasha snapped her fingers at him and pointed at a chair before Bruce could even protest. Clint rolled his eyes and sat on the bed, which she seemed to consider good enough, because she turned her attention back to Bruce. His hair wasn't really that long, since he'd had it cut like a week ago, but Natasha fished through the medicine cabinet and did things to it with gel so that it really did look different.

"There," she said, when she was satisfied. "Here." She handed him his glasses and he perched them on his face.

"Should I shave or something?" he asked her.

"I vote no!" Clint called out.

"Hmmm," she grabbed some electric monstrosity of a shaving device and did some quick work. She stepped back and looked critically. He looked neater, but not aggressively groomed.

"Wow," he said. "How do you know how to deal with beards?"

"Cause she's been one so often!" Clint called from the other room.

She rolled her eyes and snapped something in Russian at him. Clint closed his mouth with a click.

"There are a lot of ways to get close to someone...get them to talk to you or to be in a room while conversations are happening. Some are more noticeable than others. One is to do their hair and makeup," she said to Bruce.

"You did hair and makeup?" he said, incredulously.

"Just hair," she said and spun him and pushed him back into the bedroom.

"I was makeup," Clint said, looking him up and down. "Hey. You clean up good, Doc."

Bruce nearly said something self-deprecating, but then he realized that might count as an insult to Natasha's skills. "Thanks."

"Well, my work is done here, boys. I have to go," she said. "You're staying here," she informed Clint, when he stood.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because, someone needs to keep Bruce from jittering out of his skin, and you're driving me up a wall," she said as she headed towards the living room and they followed her.

"Okay. I can hang out here," said Clint. "Sorry for giving you shit about your date."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "No you're not," she said, and left.

Bruce looked after her and then fixed Clint with a steady gaze. "What's up with you two?"

"Nothing," said Clint.

"Do you wish there were?" asked Bruce.

Clint looked at him. "Nah...me and Tasha...it's not like that."

"What's it like?"

Clint sighed. "I don't feel like talking about it."

Bruce nodded. "Okay."

"We just...we don't make long-term commitments. Not that kind," said Clint.

Bruce took a deep breath and let it out through pursed lips. "I get that."

"Hey, look, just because we don't doesn't mean that you can't," said Clint.

"Who says that's what I'm going for?" Bruce said, pulling off his glasses and fiddling with them.

"Doc, I've met you. I've seen you live. Even kept an eye on you for SHIELD a few times back when you were on the run. I've seen you miserable and I've seen you content. I don't think it's news to you that you seemed more relaxed and, well, happier the longer you were in New York."

Bruce glanced up at clint and shook his head. "It's not news," he agreed.

Clint shifted and looked away from Bruce's eyes. He ran a hand through his hair and huffed. "Look...do you want to watch TV or something?"

"Sure," said Bruce.

"Do you like Dog Cops?" Clint asked, flicking the television on.

* * *

Tony had made sure the limo was going to roust him from his office in a timely fashion. Happy hadn't stirred while he had been in the hospital earlier in the day, and he let guilt hang heavily upon him before he had used work to shake it off. He could only plan, which was frustrating, but he did have a three-d modeling table in his office, and he had Jarvis. So he could be doing worse.

A random secretarial type poked her head in. "The car you ordered is here, Mr. Stark."

"Thank you," he said. He shut everything down and went out. Pepper was already in the car.

"My, my, Miss Potts. You look as though you made an effort,"

"And I normally look like?" she asked, archly.

"Effortless grace and beauty and poise," he responded quickly.

"Nice save, Iron Man," she said dryly, but she was smiling, so he knew it was all right.

"Seriously, though, new dress?"

"Natasha helped me pick it out," she said.

"Then it's probably bugged."

Pepper shrugged and smiled at him.

"I'd better check it," said Tony, sliding an arm around her and trailing it up and down her side suggestively.

Pepper laughed and captured the hand in one of hers and pulled his arm more tightly around her. They got to the apartment and waited. Tony really wished they were alone when he got a glimpse of Bruce. He was wearing a sweater in a rich deep purple over one of the crisp shirts Tony had bought him. He was still scruffy, but a slightly groomed scruffy and he was wearing a bow-tie. A bow-tie, for god's sake - taking the professor look to the hilt.

"Holy shit," he said. "I wish Happy was driving, tonight."

"What? Why?" asked Pepper.

"Happy is utterly to be trusted and he doesn't give a fuck who I suck face with back here."

Pepper smacked him with her tiny sparkly purse. "We're supposed to be talking, tonight."

"Sure, while we're there, but on the way home..."

Pepper smacked him, again, as Bruce clambered awkwardly into the back of the limo.

"Uh, hey," he said. He looked at them both and swallowed, briefly. "Am I...uh...Do I look alright?"

"You look fantastic," said Pepper, with a soft smile that totally belied the force she could put behind a purse-smack.

"Like a physics student's wet dream," said Tony.

Bruce chuckled nervously. "I meant for where we're eating."

"Oh, definitely," said Tony. He was still leering broadly. He imagined undoing that tie, undoing the button at Bruce's neck and burying his face in the tuft of chest hair he knew that would reveal.

"We're ready," Pepper said to the driver, wrenching Tony's brain back from its lust safari. The car started smoothly into the night.

The driver dropped them off out front and held the door as Tony handed Bruce, then Pepper out of the back of the limo. Bruce looked tense and his eyes were darting around, nervously. He fell back a step behind the two of them as they walked into the restaurant. The concierge swept them to the private room Tony had reserved. Bruce fidgeted with his napkin and then his glasses. Tony was starting to fear this upscale place hadn't been a good idea, after all. The waiter left them with the menus and went out. Bruce finally relaxed a little.

Tony reached over and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "All safe, Doc. B. Don't you worry about a thing."

Bruce gave him a quick smile. Tony caught his eyes and held his gaze. Bruce smiled again. Pepper leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Bruce looked at her in pleased surprise.

"You were so cute, I couldn't resist," she said.

"Come on, let's decide what we're ordering, so we can get to the dirty part more quickly," said Tony, slapping the menu in front of Pepper with his open hand.

"There's no dirty part," Pepper reminded him. "Just talking."

"Talking can be dirty," Tony insisted. He leered at Bruce.

Bruce laughed and shook his head.

"I think we should all get the tasting menu," said Pepper.

"Oh, yes! With the wine pairings," said Tony.

Bruce looked at that option and then looked up in alarm. "That's..." He started.

Tony cut him off. "Don't worry about how much it costs. You can't just get the chicken, here. Trust me."

Bruce closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "I'll try it."

The waiter came back to take the menus and their orders. Tony ordered a scotch "Whatever you have that's been aged at least 20 years," as well as the tasting menu with wine for the three of them. Bruce ordered a pot of herbal tea.

There was silence for a moment after the door closed behind the waiter.

"So...," said Pepper.

"So...," echoed Bruce.

Tony looked from one to the other of them. "So...dating. It's a thing. We should do it," he said. "I mean, we don't always have to get all dolled up like this. Also: Bruce should keep living with us."

"Agreed," said Pepper. They both looked at Bruce, who smiled.

"I'd like that," he said.

"So what constitutes dating. How is it different than the way we've been interacting before?" Pepper asked.

"Sex!" said Tony, a little over-loudly, just as the door opened, again and the waiter came in with the tea, the scotch and their amuse-bouche. Another server followed behind him with the wine for this course.

Pepper laughed, as the servers studiously and professionally ignored that they'd interrupted anything. Bruce managed to smile and thank them as they put the plate and glass down, even though he had tensed up when the door opened. As the door shut, he looked at Tony seriously. "I'm not sure I'm ready for that."

"Well, what's the stumbling block?" Tony asked.

"The other guy," said Bruce. "I think I've got him under control...even for that, but I'd never forgive myself if I hurt either of you."

"Will you let us help you find out?" Pepper asked, softly. "We'd...I'd like to. We can back off whenever you say. We can work out a system or a schedule..." She looked at Tony for help.

"We can throw some scientific method at it, if you'll let us..." said Tony.

Bruce thought about it for a long moment, ate the tiny bit of food he'd been given, then took a deep breath, "All right," he said.

"Really?" Tony asked.

"Yes. We build a plan and we stick to it and you," he pointed at Tony. "Do not push me. Or badger me. Or surprise me."

Tony held up his hands. "I would never!"

"Yes, you would," said Pepper, laughing.

"Contrary to popular opinion, I do have a sense of self-preservation," said Tony.

"Do I need to remind you..." Pepper started.

"When I'm not already dying," he cut her off.

Bruce's forehead wrinkled in concern. "When were you dying?"

Tony waved his hand in a lighthearted and dismissive manner. "Long story. Some other time. We're still talking about what this Dating thing means to us."

They fell silent again as the servers re-entered to collect their dishes and bring the next set of tiny food. Tony was barely even paying attention to the exquisitely plated morsels. He was intent on Bruce and Pepper. Pepper seemed as smooth and in-control as she always did, but the flush of her face and neck betrayed her excitement. As for Bruce, for all the skill he had at clamping down on his emotions, he had very little practice concealing them. He was nervous, it was painted all over his face. But when he notice Tony looking, he smiled, and the smile was real. Tony grinned back at him, trying to keep it from slipping into 'predatory' territory.

"So, what else?" said Pepper, as always keeping the meeting on task. "I say we should be able to go out any two of us, as well as all three of us. Tony and I travel too much to make it practicable to keep it to exclusively the three of us."

"You don't really mean go out go out?" Bruce asked, sounding almost alarmed.

"Of course I do," said Pepper.

"Of course she does. You wouldn't keep all this away from a grateful public, would you?" said Tony, gesturing to himself.

Bruce paused, apparently caught between the sincere response and the snarky one. "I don't want to cause a..uh...media problem for you two."

"That's not going to be a thing," said Tony, waving his hand dismissively.

"Forgive me, Tony, but I've seen how you do when left in charge of your own media strategy...and..." Bruce started, but Pepper cut him off.

"That's why he's not in charge. I can show you the plan, but honestly, as long as we don't get too wild with public displays of affection, we'll be fine. You won't cause any more of a problem than Rhodey does. In fact, you might help keep my Tony-related press headaches to a minimum," she said.

Tony looked at her, trying to look injured and innocent, but as well as he did puppydog eyes, it never really felt natural. Pepper laughed at him and he let the look drop and grinned at her.

"I'm going to be publicly displaying all the affection I feel like," said Tony.

"Yup, and you've flirted with Rhodey your whole life very publicly. No one will take notice."

Bruce coughed, "I'm not really all that comfortable in public, anyway," he said. "Mostly."

"Well, we're going to work on that," said Tony.

Pepper nodded.

"Why do we have to work on it?" Bruce asked, sounding tired.

"Well, I guess we actually don't," said Pepper, slowly. "I just thought you might...want to."

"Why would I want to?" he asked.

"Because you're not going out because you're afraid and that's bullshit," said Tony.

"I'm not afraid for myself. I'm afraid I'm going to hurt someone," Bruce said. His tiredness was morphing into frustration.

"Still bullshit," said Tony, looking into Bruce's eyes. For once, the guy was looking straight back at him.

"No, it isn't. I've hurt people before. I don't like it at all. I don't like what it makes me."

"Who have you hurt who hasn't hurt you first?" said Tony.

"Boys, boys!" protested Pepper. "Bruce doesn't have to change if he doesn't want to. And if you want to convince him to try something different than what he does, this is not the time or place to convince him," said Pepper to Tony.

Bruce looked at her with gratitude till she turned her officious scolding on him, as well. "And you - if you don't try things, Bruce, how are you ever going to learn where your true boundaries are? If you don't want to go out because you don't feel like it or don't like it, that's fine, but if you're going to keep living with us and working with Tony and choosing the life of a superhero, public exposure might not be something you can avoid, so you may want to try to build your relationship with the public pro-actively so you can do it on your own terms."

Tony looked at Bruce, who swallowed. "Okay," said Bruce.

"Okay?" Tony asked. "What does that mean?"

"Okay, I'll work on it," said Bruce. "At my speed. No one else's."

Tony grinned at him. "Wouldn't have it any other way." His grin felt tight.

"Why do I feel like I'm negotiating a contract for my soul?" Bruce muttered as the next round of tiny plates came in.

"Are you comparing me to the devil?" Tony asked.

Bruce looked up at him, "Would it bother you if I were?"

Tony gave a quick, snorting laugh. He didn't miss Pepper's worried look in his direction at the sound. Yeah. Maybe this hadn't been the best idea.

* * *

Pepper was getting tired just watching the sniping back and forth between Tony and Bruce. The only more exhausting date in her memory was the very first one she'd had with Tony. As they worked their way down the courses, she only jumped into the conversation at this point to defuse what she could. It was unproductive. The real conversation would happen later, as long as the two boys didn't take each other's heads off.

She was holding Bruce's hand under the table. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze as Tony settled up. He smiled at her and squeezed back. Pepper held his gaze as Tony added an extravagant tip to the already copious total on the credit card slip and signed with a flourish.

"Can I..." Bruce patted vaguely at the pocket that contained his wallet.

"Let's just agree that I'm going to shower you both with gifts," said Tony, frowning, and waving away the attempt to pay. "Let's agree that I have more money than god and buying food and drink and the occasional shiny thing for the two of you is one of the more harmless things that I can do with it."

"I don't know if I can..." Bruce started. Pepper let out a sigh when Tony interrupted him. This was always an arena where Tony had little patience for other people's avowed boundaries.

"Let's agree at least that money is a super-boring thing to fight about and we're not going to do that, since we don't need to," said Tony. There was an edge to his voice. She needed to get them out of here.

"Let's head home," she said.

"Home," Tony agreed.

Bruce tried to trail them out, but Pepper rested a hand on his elbow and nestled into Tony as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Pepper didn't let go of him in the car, snuggling in the middle and acting as a buffer between the two men. She could feel Tony's hackles coming down as they drove.

When they got back to the apartment and were safe inside, Tony loosened his tie. "Jesus. Finally."

Bruce took off his glasses and arched an eyebrow at Tony. "Does this mean I can...uh...change?"

Tony patted Bruce's shoulder, looking much more like himself. "Don't EVER change, big guy. I mean it."

Pepper snorted at them both. "Well, I'm going to change and get out of these heels."

"Fuck yes. How a guy is supposed to kiss you when you're walking around on those stilts, I do not know," said Tony.

"You just have to strive to move beyond your own level, like you did when you started dating me in the first place," she said. She heard Bruce laugh as she went into the bedroom to carefully hang up her dress and put her shoes away.

She ditched her underwear too and slipped into pajamas. She didn't even bother to go for the sexy ones, since casual would probably put Bruce a little more at ease. She wandered back out to find Bruce and Tony still standing awkwardly in the living room, talking emphatically and, in Tony's case, a little desperately, about something to do with circuits.

"Come on boys, get into snuggly clothes. I'm going to pour myself some wine. Would either of you like anything?"

"Scotch!" said Tony, already heading for the bedroom.

"Oh, I'd love some herbal tea, if that isn't too much trouble," said Bruce, fiddling with his glasses and staring at them in his hand.

"Not too much trouble at all. Go get into pajamas or something and it'll be ready when you come back out," said Pepper.

The boys went to their rooms, and Pepper set up a tray of drinks and snacks in the kitchen, in preparation for bringing it out to the living room. She heard a small *ahem* from the doorway and turned around. Bruce was there in frayed sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"May I...uh...give you a hug?"

"Of course," she said. She opened her arms and he stepped forward into them. His hug was warm and firm but not crushing. He dipped his nose into the crook of her neck and held her for a long time. She sighed happily and closed her eyes. "Mmm. That's nice."

Suddenly, a kinetic force thudded into them at speed. Tony had wrapped himself around the outside of the hug.

Bruce laughed. "You should be more careful, Tony."

Tony laughed with him. "Don't you ever get tired of telling people that?"

The smile slipped from Bruce's face as he pulled back. "Yes."

Tony gazed into his eyes, his face earnest. "Then stop. You've told us. We've heard you. You don't have to keep telling us."

Bruce took a deep breath and then let out a ragged noise that wasn't quite a sob. "Okay...okay."

Pepper grabbed her wine and took Bruce's hand and pulled him towards the living room. "Take the tray," she said to Tony. He brought it along.

Pepper sat on the sofa and pulled Bruce down by her. Tony put the tray down then sprawled on a cushion on the floor. He laid on his side, like something out of a Roman drama, except with a faded Metallica t-shirt instead of a toga.

"Okay," said Pepper. "So, I was listening to you both, tonight, and I'd like to say what I heard."

"Sure," said Bruce. Tony just watched her expectantly.

"Bruce, what you want is to not hurt anyone else, to increase emotional intimacy and to continue to feel relatively safe." Bruce listened, and nodded, busying himself with pouring a cup of tea.

"Tony, what you want is an increase in physical intimacy, to not worry about the money you spend on Bruce or to let him worry about money, and to not worry about what the public thinks or cares about as the relationship develops."

"That's not how I'd put it," said Tony.

"I know," said Pepper.

"I'd say I want some sweet Bruce-lovin' and fuck what anyone else thinks."

Bruce chuckled softly. He glanced over his glasses at Tony. He took a deep breath and looked at Pepper, "What do *you* want?"

"I want the intimacies...all kinds. And I hope we can successfully get you to stop worrying about money. It's such a relief not to have to worry about it," she answered Bruce. "I'm afraid I can't not worry about the publicity angle, though, but that's part of my job. However, I really don't think that'll be as big a problem as you think it will."

"Yeah. Listen to her. She's a genius when it comes to these things," said Tony.

"And I think tomorrow, you two can come up with your scientific sex plan and I'll be happy to participate in that in any way that's helpful and entertaining."

"Now *that's* what I'm talking about," said Tony, gleefully. He tossed back his remaining scotch and came over to sit by them on the sofa.

"Where does that leave us, tonight?" asked Bruce.

"When you say stop, we stop," Pepper answered him. She finished off her wine, and leaned in to kiss Bruce, who was now sandwiched between her and Tony. Tony snuggled up to his back as he relaxed into the kiss and started mouthing at his neck. Bruce pulled away, skin flushed and breathing heavily. His eyes were still deep brown - no sign of the Hulk.

"What say we move this to the bedroom?" suggested Tony, words half-muffled by Bruce's neck.

"Yeah," said Bruce. "Okay."

"Really?" Tony sat up straight, in surprise at the quick acquiescence.

"Sure. I say stop, we stop, right?"

"Absolutely," said Tony.

"Of course, there's no reason *you two* have to stop..." said Bruce, blushing even redder and not meeting their eyes.

Tony's grin turned feral. "Oh ho ho. You like to watch?"

"I think I'd like to...try it," said Bruce.

Pepper laughed and took his hand. "Well, come on, then." She stood and reached her other hand out to Tony, who took it and surged ahead.

"Experiment one is a go. This is not a drill, people!"

Pepper couldn't stop giggling as he dragged them both into the master bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---
> 
> NOTICE THE RATING CHANGE. It used to be teen and up, and I've changed it to explicit. THINGS ARE GOING TO GET DOWN AND DIRTY IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.


	10. Every end is a middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce finally feels the heat, Tony finally talks about real things and Pepper's schemes, at long last, come to fruition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always, are due to RedheadScientist for all her help on this chapter.

Bruce stood awkwardly in the darkened doorway after Tony and Pepper had hurried through it, but Pepper pulled him into the room and caught him in a kiss. She drew the kiss out and out, folding her arms around him when he pulled back. Tony stepped up behind her. He brushed her hair to one side, back over her shoulder and kissed her neck.

Bruce watched him, his pulse quickening, but not uncontrollably. Tony glanced up at him and grinned, his lips still poised over Pepper's freckled skin. Bruce leaned forward and kissed him. Pepper was pressing into him in a way he remembered Betty doing. His mind felt suddenly slack, awash in sensation and memory together. His body was responding. He pulled back again and then stepped away deliberately, taking deep breaths.

They watched him with similar hungry grins. He took a deep breath and licked his lips, nervously, smoothing his hands down his thighs.

"Like I said...don't let me stop you," he managed to get out.

"So," said Tony, then kissed Pepper's neck, again. "How do you want this to go down?" He kissed her again.

"Me?" Bruce asked. It came out as a croak. He wondered how two short kisses could've kissed the moisture out of his body.

"Yeah. You want to direct, big guy?" Tony stuck his tongue out and licked Pepper's neck up to her earlobe, where he paused, a moment, to nibble. She let out a soft, formless noise of pleasure that went straight to the pit of Bruce's stomach and made his blood race.

He dimly remembered he was supposed to answer a question. Bruce tried for words, but all he managed was a clearing of the throat and a shake of his head.

"Well, if you change your mind, just say so," said Pepper, softly. She smiled at him and brushed gentle fingers down his chest. He smiled, and then stepped back. He glanced around quickly and saw a chair in the corner of the room. He went to sit in it.

"Just bring that over here," said Pepper.

"Yeah, we like our audience up-close and personal," said Tony.

"Do you..." Bruce cleared his throat, "generally enjoy an audience?"

"Tony *always* likes an audience," said Pepper, delivering the usual teasing in a fond and breathless voice. Bruce drew the chair closer. She laid back when Tony prodded her and reached out for Bruce's hand.

"I like audience participation even more," he said, arranging Pepper on the bed and sliding his hands down her hips before diving between her legs.

Pepper cried out. The fingers of one hand twined in Tony's hair and the other reached out for Bruce.

Her hand felt warm and strong in his. Hardly anyone felt so warm to him, anymore. His body temperature ran hot since the accident - since the Hulk. He watched her throw her head back, observed her face flush. He stroked the skin of her forearm, wanting more of her under his fingers. She turned to him and smiled. Her pink lips parted in another cry.

"Hey, am I doing something you don't like, or are you just enjoying it that much?" said Tony. "Because I think you're pulling my hair out." Bruce's looked down at Tony who winked at him and gave him a grin before putting his tongue back to work.

"Sorry," said Pepper. "Please don't stop." She let go of Tony's hair and grabbed the bed frame.

"Can you talk while he's doing that?" Bruce asked.

"Sort of," she gasped.

"What does it feel like?" Bruce asked her. He watched her face. He was still holding her hand, almost as he might do by someone's sick bed, in a hospital. He leaned forward and brushed her hair away from her face.

"I don't know..." she gasped between breaths, "If I can explain....It's so soft and...intense... at the same time."

"I might be able to build something that would let you feel it, Bruce," said Tony, leaning up, again. His goatee was gleaming with her wetness. His fingers were moving against the skin he had been licking, to good effect if Pepper's blushing squirms were any indication. "It'd probably require brain surgery, though," he said.

Bruce laughed. "Not today, then."

"Or you could just let me do you next," Tony waggled his eyebrows.

Bruce's cock twitched at the notion. "You said you wouldn't push," he admonished. His tongue felt as though it was fighting his own refusal, sticking to the roof of his mouth.

"That wasn't pushing. It was an offer," Tony protested.

Bruce took a deep breath and felt more in command of himself. "It was a pushy offer. You should finish doing what you're doing to Pepper."

"I'll never be finished," he said, looking up at her with a soft, hungry expression Bruce had never seen on him before. He sank back down and put his mouth back to work, eliciting a squeal from her. She clenched her hand around Bruce's and then her head was tossed back, her muscles tightening her hips twitching as she came.

She tapped Tony and he let go of her legs. He slithered up to lay beside her as she caught her breath.

Bruce tried to let go of her hand, but she clung to him. "Come snuggle?" she asked.

He smiled as she shifted closer to Tony. He found he couldn't refuse and laid down next to her.

"Mmmmm," she said.

"Don't you fall asleep," Tony poked at her.

"I'm not," she said. It was not a very convincing protest, thought Bruce, since she said it softly while her eyes were closed in a posture of total relaxation. But in a few seconds she lifted a leg and wrapped it around Tony's thigh. He kissed her. Bruce tried to roll away, but Tony grabbed him by the arm.

"Hey. I have an idea. If you want to...if you want to, you could lay down, here," Tony indicated the middle of the bed. "And you could hold Pepper. Just hold her."

Bruce swallowed. "But...while you..."

"Yes, while I rock her world." Tony leered at her. She giggled and rolled her eyes at him.

"Would that..." he shifted to speak softly into Pepper's ear. "Would you like that?"

She nodded and twisted around to look at him. "I'd love it, if it wouldn't be more than you want to do, tonight."

"I'm not sure. If I do...I might have to stop you in the middle...if it gets to be too much," he said.

"That's all right," she assured him. Her thin fingers raised to tangle in his hair and scratch gently at his scalp. He closed his eyes, feeling it. Betty used to do that all the time. It was a sweet memory. He took a deep shuddering breath.

"Yes," he said. "I'd like to."

Tony turned a grin on Bruce that was not unlike the ones he'd seen Tony direct at Jarvis in his workshop. He was pleased...maybe even proud? Like his design came together the way he had wanted it to. Tony helped Pepper up and shifted Bruce to the middle of the bed.

"Do you...maybe wanna get more nude?" he asked, gesturing to Bruce's sweatpants and ratty t-shirt.

"No. I think...I'll stick with this." Bruce propped himself up with pillows and Pepper slid back onto the bed.

He opened his arms and Pepper leaned back into them. She rested her head on his shoulder and turned to smile at him. Her hands enfolded his and wrapped his arms around herself. The warm weight of her was solid against his chest. His blood thundered in his ears as she settled in between his legs. He took deep breaths and shifted uncomfortably as the half-mast erection he'd been sporting grew at the warm press of her. He started to regret he hadn't gotten naked. But no. The discomfort might help him regulate himself.

He was still taking measured breaths. Pepper was gazing at his face over her own shoulder. "You okay, Bruce?" She asked softly.

He smiled at her. "Yeah. Yes. It's just...It's been a while."

She reached up and tilted his face towards her and kissed him. He felt like his whole body was on fire between the proximal contact and the warm wetness of her mouth. He heard a helpless, breathless sound and realized it had come from him.

He pulled back and looked at her. She smiled at him and wiggled her hips, pressing her ass against his now rock hard length where it was trapped in his sweatpants. He realized she was riling him up on purpose.

"Oh god," he whispered. "I am doomed."

"What was that, Bruce?" Tony demanded, sliding in close as he arranged himself between Pepper's legs. The spread of her legs forced Bruce's wider. He had to slip a hand down and readjust lest the position cause him serious pain.

"I just realized that Pepper is pushing, too, she's just subtle."

"I wasn't!" Pepper protested, but Tony ignored her denial.

Tony giggled wickedly and gazed at her adoringly. "That's my girl," he said before kissing her hungrily.

Bruce was taut, trapped, and tumescent, helplessly watching Tony and Pepper kiss, feeling the heat from both of them. Tony pulled back and grinned at him over Pepper's shoulder, locking eyes with him while he shifted and steadied himself on one hand as he slid into her. He let out a groan of pleasure. "Aww, fuck, yes."

"Seriously, Bruce. I can't wait to watch you try this. She's amazing. And I should know." Each sentence came between thrusts. "I am after all," another thrust pressed Pepper's ass against Bruce's cock. "A barely-reformed manwhore of epic proportions."

"Tony," Pepper admonished. "You're not reformed."

Laughter bubbled up from Bruce's diaphragm and burst out. Pepper joined him and Tony tried to give them both a theatrically stern look, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes gave him away. They all laughed--Tony never ceasing in thrusting.

"No, you're right. There's still an A.P.B. out for me," he said.

"And here, I thought you were going to claim to be an orthodox manwhore," Bruce reposted, taking advantage of Tony's inability to keep his river of banter flowing at the same time as he was fucking to get a word in edgeways.

Pepper giggled again. Tony slipped a hand down where his body met hers and the giggles dissolved into high breathy noises. She was tensing up, her back arching against Bruce's chest.

"Annhh annnh, Tony. Yes. Yes. Yes!"

Tony had a look of concentration on his face, not unlike the ones Bruce had seen on him in the workshop when he was untangling a truly interesting problem. He was thrusting in deep, quick jabs, his hand working Pepper's clit. Her hands clutched Bruce's arms hard. She cried out, louder and longer than she had when Tony had gone down on her. Bruce thought he'd be able to get an imprint of her fingerprints off his own arm when she finally let him go.

Her body went lax and Tony's look of concentration had been replaced with a shit-eating grin. The rhythm of his hips was wilder, now. His thrusts harder but less staccato. It didn't take him long at his new pace to let out a whoop and clutch at Pepper's hips, letting his head fall between her breasts as he came.

Tony lay there, taking deep breaths. Pepper smiled at him and stroked his hair.

"That was fantastic. Even better with Bruce right there," Tony looked Bruce in the eye. "What do you think? Good? Go on. Rate me out of ten. But know that if you give me lower than an 8, I'll fight you. Come on, Bruce. Nine? Nine point five? Eight point five...?" His face fell. "Not seven point five! You wound me."

Pepper giggled again.

"Hush, Tony. I'm not going to rate you," said Bruce. "If anyone gets to do that, I'd think it'd be Pepper."

"Oh no. I'm not feeding his ego any more tonight," she said.

"Any more? My ego is STARVING TO DEATH," said Tony. He rolled off Pepper with a sigh.

"Two orgasms," she said.

"But were they good ones? Better than last time? Come on. I thrive on constructive feedback."

Pepper smiled and slithered out of Bruce's lap and kissed him.

"Tell me. How did I do? Grade me. Evaluate me," said Tony as soon as she pulled back.

Pepper kissed him again, longer this time. Bruce scooted over to let them have room on the bed.

Tony's eyes were still half-closed when Pepper pulled back again. "I can't help but notice that wasn't an answer."

"It's the answer you're going to get. I'm right here, Tony. Breathe and try not to exhaust me," said Pepper, not un-fondly.

"Where is Bruce going?" Tony asked her.

Bruce froze in the act of sliding off the bed. He'd half assumed they'd forgotten he was there.

Pepper's hand slid down his back. "Don't go. I mean...if you have to, but..."

"Yeah, don't take off, hot stuff. Even if you aren't doing the hot and heavy part, you can participate in the cuddle portion, right?" Tony said.

Bruce turned back around with a smile. He laid back down, propped up on one elbow. "Sure...I guess."

"Good," said Pepper. She shimmied up to his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

"You haven't said anything big guy," said Tony, stretching his arms to hug Pepper and Bruce at the same time. "How was it?"

"How are you feeling?" added Pepper.

"I...really turned on," admitted Bruce. "A little frustrated. It was...amazing. Strange. I've never watched, before, like that."

"You mean with people who can watch you back?" Tony asked.

"Well, I just meant...the only times I watched have been porn. This was...entirely different."

"Good different?" Pepper asked, just a quiet murmur in his ear.

Bruce closed his eyes and felt Pepper's arms around him. He had a warm feeling inside. He felt keyed up and stable and, for lack of a better word, included. "Definitely good," he said, without opening his eyes.

"Are you falling asleep?" Tony asked, poking him in the side.

"Nope. Just feeling my luck," said Bruce.

"Pretty sure that's Pepper's hips," Tony countered.

Pepper giggled and Bruce snorted. "Hush, Tony," said Pepper. "We're trying to cuddle."

"And for that you need quiet?"

"Let Bruce rest. He's earned it," Pepper chided.

"He's earned it! What about me?"

Bruce let himself relax and drift off to the sound of their sniping banter.

Dreams came in his sleep like fractured hunks of memory swimming up through a fog, re-assembling themselves in any nonsensical order. Sometimes it was difficult to tell the difference between dreams and hulked-out time. This time more so than usual. He'd dreamed he was the other guy. He'd been the ones crushing Tony's mansion, instead of a terrorist's missiles. He'd busted his way through the front and through walls till he'd reached the bedroom. Pepper and Tony were there, in the middle of making love, and they'd smiled and moaned as he crushed them bloody. He could feel bones break and skin rip in his hands.

Bruce woke rigid, terrified and in a cold flop sweat. He rolled out of bed and hit the floor almost before he remembered where he was, tensing to run. The previous night came back to him in waves rolling up from his gut and filling him with anxiety. He pushed himself up off the floor as quietly as he could, grabbed his glasses from the nightstand and got out of the room as quickly as possible.

He paced up and down in the small condo kitchen, trying to decide what to do. Every new closeness had brought with it fear. And the last time he'd tried for some emotional closeness, it had gone disastrously badly, and not just for him.

Was this a mistake? Did the answer to that question even matter, anymore?

He sighed, leaning on the counter. He removed his glasses and wiped his hand over his face. A slight noise from the doorway drew his attention. He looked up. Tony was shuffling in, in a bathrobe. "Hey. Couldn't sleep?"

"Was, for a while," Bruce responded. "Nightmare."

"Oh, man. I hear you. Happens to me all the time," he said. "Want to grab a drink and put together the sexy science plan?" Tony ran his fingers through his own hair and leaned on the doorframe, illuminated by the lights of Los Angeles coming in through the window at the end of the kitchen. He grinned.

Bruce blinked. "Yeah. Sure. Why not?"

He leaned into the fridge and poured himself a glass of iced tea. Tony grabbed a beer. They moved around each other well. An effortless dance of bodies that reminded Bruce of the lab.

Tony grabbed the tablet and they drifted to the dining room table.

"You know, I've never done this before," said Bruce.

"What, made a test plan about your own sexuality?" asked Tony.

"No. I've totally done that," said Bruce. "I meant been with a guy."

Tony laughed. "It's like falling off a log, Brucey. I have total confidence in your ability to handle it."

"What if I can't?"

"You like guys, in theory," Tony didn't frame it as a question.

"How can you be so sure?" Bruce asked.

"Well, I got a chance to kiss you, and you gave as good as you got. Plus I've seen your porn search history. It had a little bit of everything."

"That's a gross invasion of privacy," said Bruce, with a frown.

"Hah! I was lying, but I know it had a little of everything now!" Tony crowed.

Bruce chuckled and shook his head. "Asshole."

"You love it," Tony leaned in and kissed Bruce. Bruce held him there and drew it out.

"Come on," said Tony, once he'd caught his breath. "Let's make this plan. We'll put a little of everything in it, too."

"Not sure I'm quite ready for that," said Bruce, and sipped his tea.

"Come on. Let's figure this out," Tony brought up a new file and they started talking through Bruce's concerns and the gaps in his knowledge. Eventually, they had a decent test plan. Tony got Bruce to admit as much and bundled him back to bed. He fell asleep quickly and slept deep, with no dreams at all that he could remember.

* * *

Later that week, they were in the borrowed condo’s generic designer living room. Tony's arm was draped over Bruce's shoulder, the other man's shirt was loose - undone with shirt tails hanging out, lax to either side of his undone fly. Tony's eyes were roving between the tablet, which had readouts of Bruce's vitals (curated by Jarvis) and Pepper's wet, pink mouth sliding up and down the underside of Bruce's rock hard, latex-enrobed cock.

This was test case number three. There had been no hitches in testing, so far. Everything was going the way he had hoped.

"How are you doing?" He whispered in Bruce's ear.

Bruce rolled his head to the side and made a helpless noise, as though coherent response was beyond him.

"Hey. I'm not asking idly, remember. This is your rule. You about to Hulk out?"

"No," he gasped out.

Tony shifted, again, closer, leaning his mouth into the crook of Bruce's neck and leaving wet trails there with his tongue. "What if I bite you?" He whispered in Bruce's ear.

"No, Tony. Don't." Bruce gasped between breaths.

"Stop teasing him," said Pepper, flicking Tony in the leg. "You're freaking him out."

"Oh, you can tell?" Tony sat back again and asked.

"Yes. If you must make him tense, make it in the good way," she said. "Anyway, you're supposed to be..."

"Yeah. Yeah. I'm making a note." True to his word, Tony entered his observations into the tablet. His eyes whipped back to the action as Bruce let out a sustained moan. Pepper had finally stopped nuzzling the bottom of Bruce's cock and had slid her entire mouth around it. Her hand gripped the base, steadying it as she sucked. Bruce was inarticulate.

"Hulk-out check?" Tony prodded.

Bruce just shook his head. Tony checked his vitals. Basically everything was elevated, but he sure didn't seem like he was about to go green. Tony tapped in another note then tossed the tablet aside. He slid his hand up and down Bruce's hairy chest.

"God, you're like a rug. You're like straight out of some seventies porno," he said to Bruce. Tony nuzzled his neck, planting little kisses on his hot skin. He felt Bruce gasp under his fingers, still carding through Bruce's chest fuzz. Tony looked down to see that Pepper was taking in more and more of Bruce. It was impressive to watch. Bruce's girth was more substantial than Tony's.

Tony finally wrenched his eyes away to check Bruce's vitals on the tablet, again.

"He seems to be doing okay. We can move to the next phase," he told Pepper. She slid her mouth off of Bruce's cock. Tony grinned and kissed her, tasting the latex. She straddled Bruce's lap. Tony looked at him. Bruce's eyes were wide and dark as Pepper slid deliberately onto him.

"Hang on a second," Bruce gasped. "Just...hang on. Don't..." Pepper froze. Bruce took some deep, controlled breaths. "Okay."

She started to move. They had been doing hand stuff for a few days, but this was the first time Bruce had been inside another person in like a decade or something. Tony couldn't imagine. Bruce was moaning with each shift of Pepper's body.

Tony monitored Bruce's vitals for another minute or so, then tossed the tablet aside, again. "Okay. I'm a patient man, but I want in."

Bruce rolled his head to look at him, then moaned again and closed his eyes when Pepper giggled. "Think you're ready for that, Bruce?" she asked.

"I honestly have no idea. This is incredible...amazing," he said, his hands reverently touching Pepper's skin.

"One way to find out," said Tony. He was up and shucking his clothes in the blink of an eye.

He got himself lubed up with his fingers so Pepper could keep grinding slowly on Bruce til Tony was slick and open and ready. Pepper grinned and slid off of Bruce, who was panting like he'd run a race, but his eyes were still deep brown - no green in sight. Pepper took over the tablet as Tony locked eyes with Bruce, and slid onto his cock, groaning at the stretch.

"Jesus. You're huge," he said to Bruce. Bruce seemed unable to respond to that. His mouth was making noises, but they weren't words.

"Pepper, make a note. When we get back to New York, I'm going to commission a Broadway musical about Bruce's cock," said Tony as he finished sinking down. "There should be a lot of happy songs in it. Or maybe an opera. That's classier, right? Let's make it an opera, because Bruce is classy."

Pepper was giggling. Bruce's hand suddenly grabbed Tony's hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

Tony moaned and probed Bruce's mouth with his tongue.

"Stop talking and move," Bruce whispered to him, when they finally came up for air. Tony did, riding Bruce's cock for all he was worth. Bruce didn't move much, but kept touching Tony's skin the same way he had Pepper's, as though Tony was something very valuable that he couldn't believe he was allowed to handle.

For his part, the burn of the initial stretch for Tony had given away to sheer pleasure. He was pleasantly surprised when Bruce wrapped a hand around his erection and started stroking. "See? I told you. Like falling off a log."

Bruce chuckled. He seemed to have gotten over his initial worries. He was moving more, now, bucking up to meet Tony's thrusts, breathing heavily and watching the other man ride him with an appreciative eye. Pepper leaned over and whispered something in his ear and they both laughed.

"You two talking smack about me?" Tony demanded, a little breathless, himself.

"No," said Bruce.

"Paranoid," said Pepper. "It's not all about you."

"She told me to do this," said Bruce. He did something with his fingers and Tony was coming, making a mess of Bruce's clothes, spattering come all over his happy trail. Tony coming seemed to push Bruce over the edge he let out a few soft moans and all his muscles went tense. Tony could feel Bruce pulsing inside him. Man that was amazing.

"You're amazing," he informed Bruce.

"Mostly, I'm amazed," Bruce said, when he finally had the breath to do so, opening one eye to look at Tony. "Get up. I've got to take care of the hazmat." He patted Tony's leg and went off to tie off the condom and dispose of it.

"That went well," said Pepper. "He didn't even come close to his limits."

"Yeah," said Tony sprawling out and laying his head in Pepper's lap. "I'd say this works."

He didn't notice himself falling asleep (though he'd have wagered he earned it). He woke up to a murmured conversation going on above his head.

"I'm telling you, what this guy can do is amazing," Bruce was saying. He had the tablet in his hand.

"Thank you," said Tony.

Pepper laughed and bopped him on the head. "We weren't talking about you," she said.

"Well, what were you talking about?" said Tony.

"There's this cardiac surgeon in China - Dr. Wu," said Bruce. "I was just reading one of his papers, and the things he can do are incredible. Tony...I think you should call him."

"Why?"

"Aren't you ready?" asked Bruce. "To be free...of your terrible privilege?"

Tony hummed and tapped the arc reactor. "Not sure I ever will be."

"Not ready?" Bruce asked, frowning.

"Not free. But maybe you're right. Maybe I don't need to prove anything," said Tony.

"You don't have to prove anything to us," said Pepper.

"Nobody has to prove anything to me," said Bruce.

He thought about it. Bruce and Pepper continued their hum of conversation above his head as he thought long and hard.

* * *

In the end Tony successfully convinced Bruce that there were way too many military people who were interested in his surgery. He and Pepper put Bruce on the plane and sent him off to New York. Tony cheerily saying, "See you in a few days," as if he were just going in for a manicure. Rhodey was the one who stood by Pepper. They clasped onto each other and that seemed right, because they had been there for the whole thing, since the very beginning of Tony's ordeal with the shrapnel. They'd been there for each other while he'd been missing and supported each other when he was too much of an asshole to handle alone.

They were there, arms around each other when he woke up after the surgery, chest bandaged over and groggy as hell. "Damn. Anaesthesia is the worst way to get stupid of all the drugs I've ever tried," said Tony, weak and raspy voice not quite carrying the offhand tone Pepper was sure he was trying for.

"You made it," she said. She knew she was crying and smiling at the same time, but she couldn't help it. Tony reached weakly for her hand.

"Can't get rid of me that easily," he said. "And you!" he said to Rhodey who was standing above Pepper's chair, hand reassuringly on her shoulder, "Using my vulnerability to move in on my woman?"

"If I wanted your woman I could've had her years ago," he retorted, but there was no heat in it. "I'm gonna step out and make a call."

He was giving them room. Pepper was grateful. Rhodey closed the door behind himself. She couldn't tear her gaze from Tony's pale face.

"You know I'm proud of you, right?" she said.

"Why me? All I did was lay there," said Tony. His free hand ran over the edge of the dressing on his chest. He took a shallow, concentrated breath. "You call Bruce yet?"

"Yeah. I called him when you came through. He wants you to call when you're up to it."

"Gimme the phone," he said. She laughed and handed hers over. Bruce's number already up on the screen. He answered right away. "Hey, sexy green bear," said Tony, flipping the phone onto speaker.

"Tony? You sound a little rough," said Bruce.

"I'm fine. It was a skip through the daisies," said Tony.

"His throat is going to be bad for a while, because of the tube," said Pepper.

"I'll get soft foods in stock," said Bruce. "Make sure to get me a copy of the recovery instructions."

"You're not my babysitter," said Tony, just as Pepper assented.

"Of course not, you couldn't pay me enough to take that job," said Bruce.

Pepper snorted.

"You move into your new room, yet?" Tony asked.

"Ah...no...not yet," said Bruce, "I'm in the old apartment. I thought you guys might just like..."

"No. How many times do we have to tell you?" said Tony. "We want you at home."

"And that's with us," Pepper added.

"Yeah. What she said."

"Look, when are you coming to New York?" Bruce asked, changing the subject.

"As soon as the surgeons say he's good to fly," said Pepper.

"That'll be tomorrow," Tony promised.

"No. You follow the rules of the doctors over there. Pepper...make him do it."

"Oh, I will," she said.

"I don't like it when you two gang up on me," said Tony, grumpily.

"Sure you do," said Pepper.

"Rest up. See you soon," said Bruce. He hung up.

"We've gotta work on him." Tony croaked. His voice worn out from the short conversation.

"Sure, honey. After you sleep a while," said Pepper. She brushed a kiss on his forehead. When Rhodey came back in, he was snoring lightly.

"The great Tony Stark," Rhodey whispered to her with a smile. She stifled her giggle. Everything was finally looking up.

In two days, Tony was up and about, already doing more than the surgeons said he should. They were flying to New York the next day. Tony took her up to the roof of the building where they'd been staying. "Look, I know you put up with a lot from me," he said. "And you've taken every leap I asked you to and I want you to know...I love you, Pep. Whatever goes down in this new phase of our lives with New York, with Bruce, you're always close to my heart."

He gave her a little box.

"What's this?" she asked, with a smile.

"Open it." He said.

She did. It was a necklace with a heart-shaped pendant and a chain made out of irregularly-shaped pieces of metal. "Tony is this?"

"That's my shrapnel," he confirmed. "I made this."

She could feel tears welling in her eyes.

"Want me to put it on you?"

She nodded. He did so, and kissed her skin, gently. He slipped his arms around her and they looked out over the city.

"Goodbye L.A." she said.

"And hello uncertain future," he added.

The next morning, they got on the plane. Happy, who was up and about and doing better, had supervised the loading of the waterlogged bots and was sticking around to wrap up their stuff in L.A. Tony gave him a long hug. "Jesus, Hogan. About time you were doing stuff, again."

"Aww. I'm all right, Boss. No need to get all maudlin on me."

"I'll send the plane for you in a week."

"See you in New York," he said.

He didn't object when Pepper gave him a hug, too. "I'm so glad you pulled through. I'll look forward to seeing you," she whispered.

"At least you still *need* security," he said.

"Tony will always need you," she said.

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever, Boss-lady. Get on the plane." He grinned at her and saluted as they paused at the top of the steps for one final goodbye. Pepper looked around. She'd be glad to be away from the events of the last few months, but she would miss L.A.

The flight was uneventful. Tony slept through most of it. When the limo service finally brought them to the tower, Pepper was pretty tired. They got to the apartment and all was dark and silent. "Is he asleep?" Tony asked her. "Bruce!" he called "We're hooome!"

"Jarvis, where is Bruce?" Pepper asked.

"He's in the unit he was assigned upon his first arrival," the AI replied.

"Everybody back in the elevator," said Tony guiding Pepper in that direction. "I'm going to give him a stern talking to."

"That's not what he needs, Tony," she admonished.

"How do you know what he needs?"

She shook her head and trailed in Tony's wake as he strode off the elevator and down the hall to pound on Bruce's door.

He opened it, looking every inch like his rumpled self. He'd clearly hit some thrift stores since he'd gotten back to New York. "Hey! How are you feeling?" Bruce asked with a smile.

"Well, Brucey-poo. I'm kind of irritated. I mean, here I am, so very weak, compared to my normal, battery-driven self, looking forward to relaxing with my boyfriend and my girlfriend, only to find that my boyfriend can't follow directions."

Tony shouldered past him and barged in and flumphed down onto Bruce's sofa. Bruce looked a little lost. Pepper gave him a kiss and came inside.

"Why didn't you move upstairs?" she asked him, taking his hand and drawing him over to sit down in the living room. "We asked you to."

"Well..." he said.

"Yeah, jeez, Bruce, you'd think after all we've been through, you'd get it," said Tony.

"It's not that I don't understand what you want me to do, I'm still just not that sure it's a good idea in the long-term. I mean...I'm still...what I am," said Bruce.

"We know what you are," said Pepper. "We still want this."

"What if I don't?" Bruce asked. Tony made a strangled noise. Pepper laid her hand on Tony's arm.

"Bruce, I know that you do. I'd have thought you would have realized by now..." she said.

"Realized what?"

"Staying is the scariest option. It's the bravest. It's difficult and frightening to lay yourself open, to trust other people. Cutting yourself off can feel neat and definitive, but relationships never are. They're messy and complicated and frustrating and at best you'll get moments of pure positive emotion, but there are always trade-offs. It's always going to be harder to stay."

Bruce gave her a sad and hopeless look.

"Yeah, so do it anyway," said Tony. "After all, look where it got us." He held Pepper's hand tightly. "We're both better people. Well, I am, anyway. Stay even though it's like open heart surgery, all dangerous and bloody and cracked ribs. Stay because the messy option is the fun option. Stay because it's a fucking opportunity for growth."

"If you won't stay just because you want to, and I know that you do, then stay because we need you,” Pepper said.

Bruce watched her face. She met his eyes with a pleading look. He glanced over at Tony and back to her. "Yes. Yes. I will."

"Fine. Where's your stuff? Let's move it upstairs right fucking now," said Tony, standing up.

"You're not supposed to lift anything," Pepper pointed out. "Come upstairs, Bruce, we'll get your stuff tomorrow."

"You guys know I barely have any stuff, right?" Bruce said with a soft smile.

"So little stuff and yet so much baggage. I'd feel self-conscious if you had less baggage than we did." Tony snaked an arm around Bruce's waist. "Come on, big guy. I want to get a shower and I'm taking you with me."

Bruce looked at Pepper, "Help!" he said.

She laughed. "Nope. I'm coming, too."

"You bet your ass you are," said Tony with a wink as they piled back onto the elevator.

She laughed and shook her head. "No shower sex till you recover fully," she said.

"Aww man. That wasn't on the instruction sheet," Tony protested.

"I'm pretty sure there's an injunction against strenuous activity," Bruce pointed out.

"Well how am I going to get some?" Tony demanded.

"You won't till next week," said Bruce.

"Bruuuce," he whined.

"Don't worry, Bruce and I will lay off, too," said Pepper.

"Hey, I didn't agree to that," protested Bruce.

"Yeah, as a baggage-buddy of mine once said, don't refrain on my account, I can always watch forlornly," said Tony.

Bruce snorted.

"Wait, if you're not laying off, does that mean you're laying on? Like in Hamlet?" Tony asked.

"Jarvis will know," said Pepper, kicking off her shoes and wiggling her toes in the carpet.

"I propose postponement of all etymology discussions till we have Tony safely in bed," said Bruce.

"I'll drink to that," said Tony.

"No you won't. No alcohol is on the instruction sheet," said Pepper.

Tony whined and Bruce laughed as he propelled them both towards the master bath.

"Jarvis?" asked Pepper.

"Yes, Pepper."

"All in for the night. Can you lock down the perimeter?"

"Already done, Pepper."

"Thanks," she said, smiling up at one of the AI's cameras.

"And Pepper?"

"Mmm?"

"It's good to have you home."

"It's very good to be home, Jarvis," she said. "It's the best."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Fast Talk and the Slow Burn. I want to thank you all for sticking with me for so long. I really appreciate all your comments and feedback and especially your readership. I'm going to spend a little bit working on other things and revising old pieces so I can post them on AO3, but I will probably revisit Bruce, Tony and Pepper, so if you have anything you'd like to see about their lives going forward, feel free to drop me a request here or on tumblr. -- You all are fantastic and I wish I could give you personal hugs, but I think the travel bills would bankrupt me. <3


End file.
